


The Story of the Fireflies

by Kagaribito



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Backstory, Eventual mention of characters, Family History, Gen, Golden Age History, Origins, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-18
Updated: 2013-04-20
Packaged: 2017-11-29 16:27:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 39,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/689040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kagaribito/pseuds/Kagaribito
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What was it like during the time of the fabled Golden Age? Before Tsar Lunar, who truly ruled the Celestials?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Blind Duckling

**Author's Note:**

> The beginning of the beginning.  
> (Seriously- an entire family of OC's. You have been warned~)

Part I

The Blind Duckling

 

            James twiddled his fingers together in anxiousness.  The stagnant, hot air only seemed to make his anxiety worse.  Next to him were his two siblings- Ælysia and Ætheros- who were also silent. His friend Phoebus was there as well, sitting on the cool grass and biding his time by busying himself with twining their strings together.  Ætheros huffed at the blond hair in his face, while Ælysia cupped her small hands around a lazily meandering firefly.  The youth couldn’t help but smile at the two children whose minds wandered peacefully.  He scratched at his pant leg, the heat making him feel itchy, yet the resonating cicadas helped calm his nerves.

            Phoebus looked up from his work and sighed, “Do you think that she’ll have eyes like yours, James?”

            James sighed, and became lost in thought.  When he was born, the doctors noticed that he had the Mark of the Constellations- a complex etch of intertwining lines embedded into his irises, that usually meant that –besides being extraordinarily gifted- something special was in store for his future. The etches differed for each person who had them- and a being who had them was rare. Those who did have them became the best Star Pilots of the age, and Star Pilots (an entire race of people) usually had them without consequence.  However, human Carriers were always diagnosed with a sickness, so the Carrier never lived a long life, or even have a chance to start a legacy. For a human to have them was slim.

            And for a human family to have two Carriers of the Mark was unheard of.

            “Maybe.  Anything is possible, after all.” James smiled, observing the pink clouds of twilight.  The clouds called to him, urging him to fly at that very moment.  And fly where?  They just didn’t say.

            The door to the garden opened slowly, and there stood their father Mathius, a strong, respectable man.  Yet now he looked disheveled and tired, his usually neat blond hair messy, and his red eyes brimming with tears.  Behind him was Phoebus’ father, tired as well.

            “Children,” he began, clearing his throat from pent up emotion, “come and see your new sister.”

            And just like that, the heavy, silent spell that had been cast over the children immediately crumbled to nil. They rose from their designated spots with a hurried air, the excitement bubbling in their veins.  Ætheros lead the way, his entire body bobbling down the halls toward their mothers’ chamber, all the while exclaiming “New sister! New sister!  I’m coming new sister!”

            James, however, knew not to cause a great stir, and followed behind diligently, his eagerness rising up to his chest.  It felt heavy, but light- like it was pressing against his insides, wanting out. Phoebus tapped him on the shoulder, a look of excitement lighting his eyes- “Do you think she’ll like to fly?”

            And he laughed for the first time that day- a beautiful, ringing laugh, “Of course! Why wouldn’t she?” 

            With that confirmation, the two bounded to the chambers, their footsteps rebounding against the walls, accompanied by their uncontrollable laughter. They quickly pulled at the heavy doors, their chests heaving with expectancy and strain when they finished closing them.  

            There stood his siblings, all gathered around their mothers’ lap.  It was then that his heart told him that something was wrong.  His mother was smiling, yes, but there was a deep tinge of sadness in her eyes.  Only she looked at him in such a way- why give it to his new sister?  He slowly approached his mother, Phoebus not far behind.  His mother looked at him with more sadness than she usually summoned, yet this was not acknowledged, for James was busy peeking into the face of the newborn.

            She looked fine- rosy cheeks, steady breathing, pretty brown hair (Like his- where did that come from?).  So why was mother sad?

            “Wh-what’s wrong with her?” he asked cautiously, regretting the words as soon as he said them- he knew that the answer would not be good.  He looked into his mothers’ eyes searching for an answer that he already knew.

            His mothers’ clear pools of blue pierced his own, and she sighed heavily, “She has your sickness.” 

            His throat constricted- not only does he suffer, but now his sister must suffer too?  This family endears too many hardships for its’ own good.  Why them? Why her?  It just wasn’t fair.

            “And…” his mother began, swallowing back some tears- James couldn’t possibly fathom what other news was next- what could be worse than his sickness?

            “She’s blind.” His mother sighed, and began to weep silently.  As if understanding their conversation, the little one opened her eyes and out shined pools of silver. Bracing himself, he looked into them- they were beautiful and hypnotizing, but James saw something else- there, outside of the area where the pupils should be, stood out etchings.          

            “B- but mother, look! She has etchings, like me!  It doesn’t matter if she’s blind anymore! See?” he exclaimed, and pointed to his sister’s eyes. He overexerted himself, however, and went into a coughing fit.

            “I see them, James, don’t you worry.” She smiled, and looked at her new daughter lovingly, “I’ll keep her safe from the sun as well.  Now please rest yourself, your body is tiring. Children,” she called their attention from the bundle resting at her chest, breaking the hypnotic hold the newborn’s eyes had on them.

            “You may leave and continue whatever it was you were busying yourselves with- the baby is hungry.”

            Sure enough, the little ones’ face scrunched up in irritability, and she began to cry.  With that, the children left, happiness still ruling supreme in their hearts.  While hearing his three-year-old brother constantly proclaim that he would guard his sister like a dragon his hoard and teach her how to adventure properly, James couldn’t help but feel a small stone of sadness sink to the pits of his stomach.  It was already very controversial for humans to have the Mark, and to have not only two in the same family, but for the Carrier to be blind?  Now, that was nonconforming!  Everyone knows that a Carrier absolutely must be able to see, and for one that can’t- it’s just extraordinary.

            “And she’ll be the best flyer in the Celestials!” Ætheros exclaimed elatedly.  Ælysia frowned, “She’s a lady!  She’ll first have to learn manners and tricks princesses should know, and _then_ she’ll learn how to fly!” 

            Ætheros couldn’t argue with the five-year-olds logic, and nodded in agreement, and continued to prattle on about vanquishing foes in dazzling fanfare.  His innocence didn’t allow him to see that Innogen- the newborn- had very few days left to begin with.

            “ _But does that even matter? You said it yourself- anything is possible.”_ His heart relayed tenderly, and James knew that one’s heart always knows what’s best.  His usual cheerful and kind manner returned, and he joined the others for a small firefly hunt in the garden.  

            Even though the fifteen-year-old was sickly, he was surprisingly strong.  Why, even Phoebus- the healthy, ten-year-old son of the General- had difficulty sizing up to James’ stamina.  In fact, the boy was hardly sick! Seizing the glass jars sitting on the shelves of the garden shed, he ran off into the grass and proceeded to catch fireflies with his loved ones.

 

~

 

            The next day James awoke to the din of construction and loud men calling out orders to each other.  He quickly got dressed in his usual attire and hurried down the stone steps to the garden.  Rubbing his eyes furiously from the bright sun, he ran to his father’s side and questioned, “Father, what are they building?”

            The construction site took place where the garden room was- once where great, long windows stood thick walls of stone- why change it? Mathius himself questioned the construction, but he answered nonetheless.

            “It’s for your sister when she gets old enough to live in her own room.  Your mother thought the garden room would suit her better than the initial one we had chosen.”

            James was dumbstruck- the original room was a nice, open chamber with windows on the opposite walls and an amazing skylight.  One side looked out over the seaport, while the other looked towards the mountains.  And at night, the stars and moon would look so big and clear that you may be able to touch them.  How did that room not suit her?  This new room looked small and dark- it didn’t even have any windows!

            His father noticed his disapproval, and sighed heavily, “I know, I know.  But your mother believes it is for the best- the less sunlight your sister sees, the better.”

            “But-!” James argued, “But she needs the sunlight!  Sunlight cures everything! Fresh wind, water, and light give people life and happiness!  If she’s kept from it then she’ll…” he stopped himself for his heart told him to.

            Strong arms clasped around him and pulled him into an embrace, “Now, now,” his father murmured huskily, “let us keep our heads high- she’s stronger than she lets on… Come, let us see her.”

            His father held his shoulders as they walked to the Queen’s chamber.  As James expected, the curtains were pulled shut and the doors sealed- absolutely no light was to bleed through and touch the precious child- the Queen would not have it.

            All that lit their path were candles, and by candlelight, one could see that the Queen was not present in her chambers.  All that was living and breathing (besides the candle flames) was the child, whose dead pools reflected the weak light- not allowing any into her sight.

            They peered into the crib for a few minutes, the only sounds being the tick-tocking of the clock and the faint whispers of the small flames.  Ah, but James remembered!  He had a gift for his sister- a jar full of fireflies he caught the evening before. 

            Undoing the rope he tied to his belt to hold the jar, he couldn’t help but smile in excitement.  He knew she wouldn’t be able to see them, but it was the thought that counted, after all. Finally! the jar was free from its tether, and with a small tug the rope fell. Holding out the jar in front of his face, a small “Oh” escaped from his lips.

            He frowned, upset at his foolishness.  Noticing his son’s sudden dwindle in fervor, his father asked, “What is it, my son?”

            James steadied his breathing, brushing away a stinging tear. 

 

            “The fireflies have died.”


	2. The Earth, Wind, and Water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Of problems, prayers, and promises.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((If you're actually reading this then I friggin' love you))

Part II

The Earth, Wind, and Water

 

__Twine and encircle. Bend and loop. Repeat.__

 

“…be aware that the stars are not fixed- we don’t want a fellow comrade getting himself lost amoung the cosmos…”

 

_Twine and encircle._

“When will this lecture be over?”

 

_Bend and loop._

"Haven’t the slightest clue…”

 

_Repeat._

“James Lïtæm and Phoebus Pitchiner, see me after the lecture is over.”

            

“Oops.”

 

_Twine and_

“As I was saying, watch yourselves as you venture into the darkness…”

 

_Encircle_

“…those abominations could be lurking in its masses.”

 

_Ow… I- I forgot where I left off…_

“Always seek the light- it is your true ally.  That is all for today, gentlemen… Lïtæm.  Pitchiner.  Now.”

 

“We’re in trouble.”

 

“It appears so.”

 

_I hope I didn’t get a splinter… Let’s see…_

The wood creaked in slight protest.

 

“We’re sorry we interrupted, sir.”

 

“Yes, truly- Phoebus here was just wondering what the time was.”

“What? No, no- I called you boys up here for another reason- you are not in trouble of any sort.”

 

Phoebus sighed in relief, “Oh, thank the Stars.”

 

James elbowed him ever so gently.

_The leaf is still there and the wood feels very smooth. Oh, I remember now!_

“As you know, Lïtæm, you are to be nineteen in a few weeks time.  Being that you are the best Pilot the Academy has seen in centuries, it is customary that one such as yourself is to embark upon a voyage…”

 

“ _Celestials help me.”_

“However, seeing as your health isn’t exactly up to par, might I suggest that you discuss this with your Majesties the King and Queen- see if they can give you another quest to fulfill.”

 

_Bend and loop._

“Yes sir.”

 

“Very well- that is all. You are dismissed.”

 

And the two took to the outside, running as soon as the doors closed shut with an affirming thud.

 

Laughter echoed through the garden’s trees- it belonged to someone she never heard of.  Not any of her siblings, or even Phoebus. She quickly hid behind the old tree, shaded by the looming bushes next to her, offering safety.

 

 _“Don’t forget where you left off... Repeat.”_ Innogen recited in her head, stroking the thin branch with her thumb, calming herself.  The laughter grew closer. Something about it made her feel uneasy.  Something was not right about that laughter.

 

“What are you going to tell your parents, now that you’re coming of age?” Phoebus shouted, focused on his path.

“I haven’t an idea!  Let me worry about that when the time comes! Right now, we run!” James shouted back, a wild grin growing on his face.

 

The laughter was right where she used to be.  She breathed silently, and was as still as a statue.  The grass tickled at her bare feet, urging her to calm her nerves. The laughter stopped, and chatter ensued.

_Repeat._

 

“You’re dodging the question, James!” Phoebus laughed, “Tell me!”

 

Curiosity took control of her, and she chanced for a clearer sound.  Slowly, she removed herself from the cover of the tree trunk and took to the bush. Moving aside a few leaves ever so stealthily, she listened.

 

“Oh, you’ll know what they’ll say, Phoebus!  They absolutely won’t hear of it, especially mother!”

 

“Look, what is that?!” The girl pointed to the bushes. 

“What is what?” a boy asked, going to her shoulder for a glimpse at a possible legendary creature.

“There, in the bushes!”

 

And now it was fear.  Fear held her frozen- they found her.  Clenching tight her crown of leaves and branches, her breathing turned out shaky.  The grass crunched underneath the intruder’s feet, crying out with each step, _“Run, run.”_

But where to run? She wouldn’t be able to see where she was going.

She was blind, after all.

 

“Go and fetch it, Petros! Before it escapes!” the girl giggled with excitement. Of course, the boy named Petros was more than happy to oblige.  Swatting away the branches of the bush, he grabbed hold of the creature’s arm and tugged it roughly to the light.

 

“You’re right!” Phoebus howled over the wind, “Let us just go home, eh? See our loved ones, and all that!”

 

Of course, anyone would be disappointed if it wasn’t a creature they discovered.  No, it was just a sun-deprived, thick-locked, brown-haired girl with piercing silver eyes.  All that she wore was a light blue dress, and all she carried in her earth-stained hands was a half made crown of branches.

            Not a rare discovery _at all._

            Apparently, her appearance was laughable.  The children burst out guffawing, and this only seemed to drive Innogen deeper into the hole of loneliness. “ _What were they laughing at?  Why were they so rough?  I want to leave right now”._ Innogen thought fervently, clasping her hands together tightly, shifting from side to side.

 

            And through the palace gates did the boys speed through, taking glances at each other to see who would make it to the garden entrance first. James’ chest ached, and his throat burned, but he reminded himself of the crystal clear fountain at the garden’s entrance, and regarded it as a fine reward for such a laborious task.

“Almost… there…” he grunted.

 

Proceeding to poke the mute girl with a stick, Petros huffed in disappointment, “She won’t talk! Is she deaf?”

The girl named Isabelle slapped the stick away from him and went up to the strange girl, chancing to make a new (and strange) friend.

She waved, but the girl did not reply.  Upset, she tugged at the girl’s wavy locks. She flinched, like when Petros started to prod her, but still nothing.

 

Innogen refused to look up.  The spot where she was rudely prodded at ached. What if they saw that she was blind?  How would they react?  The only people she was allowed to converse with were nowhere near, and she knew that she wasn’t allowed to speak to these children.

She wasn’t even supposed to be outside in the first place.

And she recited in her head, _Repeat._

There stood the thin metal gate, wide open - perfect for running through.  Over the sound of the whistling wind, the furious beating of his heart, and the ragged breaths of them both, James swore he could hear the sound of the delicious, cool water lopping over itself and into its’ basin.

 

“Hey!” Isabelle hissed, angry that this strange girl refused to interact with them.  Giving the girl’s hair a rough pull, she finally looked up to them with a small yelp.  Taken by surprise, Isabelle fell backwards with a scream.

 

Innogen rubbed the smarting area on her head slowly, calmly, clutching the wooden crown so hard that her knuckles turned even whiter.  The wood creaked in protest, her skin biting. 

_I looked up._

Petros helped Isabelle up, glancing over his shoulder to make sure that the girl didn’t run away. All the while, Isabelle stuttered, until finally getting up and returning to the girl’s front.

“Sh- she- she’s blind!”

Petros wrinkled his nose, “Disgusting!!”

“No wonder she can’t understand us!” The other girl shot in, balling up her dress into her fists, excited by the unnecessary commotion.

            Isabelle snickered, “You’re nothing but an ugly duckling - covered with filth and _dirt_!”

            She pushed Innogen to the ground, the other two gathering round.

 

            Drinking his fill, the satisfied sigh his friend unleashed behind him merited a small underwater chuckle.  Noticing that James was laughing at him, Phoebus primly dunked his head under the water for a quick moment. 

            Resurfacing, James spluttered, wiping the cool water from his eyes with his sleeve, laughing.

            “You scoundrel!” he exclaimed, pointing a damp hand at his friend.  Blinking through his sopping wet hair, he broke out into pealing laughter, Phoebus joining in.

            As sudden as the release of the pressures of life lifted, they returned- a cry broke through the trees, followed by rancorous mirth.

            It took only a fraction of a second for James to realize, “Innogen!” he shouted, barreling down the garden path, Phoebus behind him.

 

            She couldn’t describe the pain that she felt every time a foot connected with her stomach, or the sudden jolt of pain that crashed into her scalp from her hair being pulled out, or the fuzzy, searing pain of her fingers being crushed by feet.  She couldn’t think with all the feelings being bombarded at her, crowding her mind, so she cried out.  She had no control over what she was saying, and felt as if she was speaking blubbering gobbledygook. 

            “B-brother!!!” she cried out, hot tears streaming down her dirt and grass-stained face.

 

            “Get away from my sister!” An all too familiar six-year-old shouted, ramming into the skinny boy with practice, knocking him off balance and away from his sister’s stomach.  Ælysia stormed into the fray, and promptly tripped the young girl, who landed on her bum with a nasty thud, and pushed away Isabelle roughly, picking up her sister with haste.

            James and Phoebus saw only a fragment of the desecration and were still angered as it stopped. Gathering his siblings together, he glared at the intruders, who looked up from their spots guiltily.

            “What are you still doing here?” Ælysia asked coldly, wiping her sister’s face from the grime.

            “Away with you!” James shouted, eyes flaring. Turning to Ælysia, he took her hands and mumbled reassuringly, “I’ve got her- go inform mother and father of those children’s misbehavior. Ætheros,” he turned to wild-haired blond boy, who blew a stray strand of hair out of his eyes in acknowledgement, “Good job at defending your sister- you’re a true adventurer and knight of the Golden Army.  You can go back inside if you want.”

            The boy shook his head, “Mm, no.  I need to see if there are any more intruders in the sacred garden.” Unsheathing his wooden sword, he ran off, rolling behind the bushes for cover from an unseen adversary.

            Phoebus shifted on his heels nervously, “I-I’ll go and see if Ælysia told your parents yet… cheer up, Innogen- the bad kids are gone now.” 

            Patting her head, the thirteen-year-old ran off to join the raven-haired girl in reporting the dilemma of intrusion.  Sighing heavily, James sank to his knees, proceeding to coddle his sister with love and care.  Smothering her with a great hug and kisses, James couldn’t help but root himself to his home- here was family and friends, and his sister needed him, after all.

            Lifting her up, he carried her to the fountain to wash off all the grass stains and dried dirt that mottled her complexion. All the while he stroked her scalp, easing the pain away from her hair roots. He rubbed at her face with a damp cloth he carried, murmuring words of comfort as he dunked her hands in the water and gently rubbed at them, being careful to not hurt them any further.

            “See?” he cooed, cupping water in his hands and sprinkling it onto her head, “Nice and fresh.  All better- here, have some.”

            Holding his brimming hands up to her lips, he smiled when she drank from them. The water ran through his fingers. “Ahh, good. More? Here.”

            She drank again, carefully and slowly. Healing. James smiled warmly, and when she finished, wiped his cool, wet hands onto her cheeks and forehead as to keep her fresh from the bright sun.

            “The water is good, mm? Everything will be alright, I promise… ah, do you feel that? Even the wind is happy that you’re all better.” he smiled, the breeze rustling through the leaves in assurance.

            Innogen looked up in confusion, flexing her smarting fingers so as to think- a strange habit, but helpful nonetheless.  She felt all better, but was confused about many things.  Letting her mind wrap around the wonderings, she let her mouth wrap around the strange word presently.

            “W-wind?”

            James got down to his knees and held her by the shoulders, looking into her sightless eyes, which were filled with light. “Yes,” he said, “that breeze that you felt right now- that cool, airy feeling on your skin that makes your hair and clothes wave around- that’s the wind.”

            He could see that the girl was processing the information, and was grateful that another breeze graced them with it’s presence, for the girl smiled in realization. He swore he could have heard her murmur, “Hello, wind.”

            “And of course you know of the water and earth.” James added, expecting for her to be confused.  She nodded- it seems that she was learning something from the tutors that came to her hidden cell, after all!

            “Mm.  The earth is the soil and the rocks, as well as the plants- like the grass and trees.  And the water is the rain, and a drink… but what does it look like?”

            James was thrown off-guard- what did she mean by _look like_?

            “I don’t know how to describe things- how they look.  I know how they feel, but I don’t how these feelings look … I want to know what they look like.”

            James scratched his head- how does one describe something to a person who has seen absolutely nothing in their life?  It was as difficult as conveying sound to the deaf, as confusing as the question of life…

            “ _All she has known is darkness- and she may not even know what darkness is!”_

            He sighed. _This will not be an easy feat,_ warned his heart.  And it was right- to show a blind little girl the world and its many wonders… a very testing tribulation, indeed. But he will see it through to its end- until all her questions were answered, and a clear conception of the world established in her heart.

            Lifting her to his bosom, he held her tightly, and promised “I’ll show you what this world looks like, my little Innogen… we’ll start tomorrow, alright?”

            She nodded, snuggling into his warm embrace with a small sigh.

 

~

 

Cicadas resonated their songs into the soft wind.  The blades of grass rustled with the leaves of the trees, and somewhere a child was dreaming of nothingness.  Somewhere, someone was dreaming a beautiful dream, and nearby a family breathed in peace and tranquility.  Yet he knew that somewhere, somebody was dreaming their last dreams, resting their last, temporary rest- or that they were already fading away to the Eternals.

 _“Cursed insomnia.”_ James thought bitterly, annoyed that these sleepless nights plagued him with such weighted thoughts.  Peeling himself from the hot bed, he decided to cool off in the garden, where a kind breeze was sure to greet him.

Nodding to the guards that stood on watch, he stepped gently through the trees, so as not to arouse the ambiance around him.  He sat underneath a warped tree and stroked the ground, resting his head against the bark. Eyes closed, he felt as if the earth and wind were whispering to him comforts and greetings.  All he could do at this strange thought was chuckle… he hasn’t heard them in quite awhile, after all.

“Hello, my friends… long time no see.”

 

Silence

 

“I see you’ve taken a liking to my sister.”

 

The trees rustled, James opening his eyes in acknowledgement.  He heaved a sigh, filled with promises and duties that had to be upheld, as well as obligations- all seemed out of reach due to his “poor” health.

Just there, against the deep blue sky and its many pinpoints of light, streaked across a light of hope, whose brilliant colors lit up the sky. His breath hitched ever so slightly- a wish was in his grasp.

His mind buzzed even more now- time was of the essence! Coaxing the words from his heart to form themselves, he began to pray fervently.

“Oh Celestials, hear my prayer-  I know I have many things that I am honor-bound to do, and I know that I may never have another chance like this, but please,” he croaked, throat dry from the wind, “help my sister see things that she cannot, and possibly never will.  I want her to know of the good things that the Universe holds, as well as the sorrows… I want her to _live…_ without the gift of sight.  May she be very wise and see things for what they truly are… thank you.”

As if the star heard him, it vanished in a magnificent flash of colors and sparks.  “ _Funny”_ , he thought, _“I’ve never seen a shooting star do that before!”_

He retired to his chambers, falling into a deep sleep as soon as he tucked himself in.  He dreamt of wondrous things- of stars falling like rain, floating cities, winged people, and dancing sparks.

 

The Stars had heard his beseeching wish.

 

_“Begin"_

 


	3. Warmth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the Celestials make their decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ages of the characters! (Should've been here earlier, sorry~)  
> James – 18  
> Phoebus – 13  
> Ælysia – 8  
> Ætheros – 6  
> Innogen – 3

Part III

Warmth

 

            _It was born from the darkness.  The fantastical mechanized inventions, the grandest feats of music and literature, the colossal cities and capitals- composed of ziggurats and pantheons of wonder and raw creativity.  It was all born from the darkness.  How?  Simple- the darkness was winning, and the Constellations needed a miracle- and an immense one at that._

_The darkness took on various forms- from literal darkness, to Fearlings, Nightmare Men, and Dream Pirates- and all feasted upon the hopes, dreams, and wishes of the people of the Celestials. It was the fact the Golden Age was hindered by the darkness, was why it was born from darkness. The remaining nobles of the Constellations could take this no longer, and banded together to put a stop to the encroaching darkness-  the most prominent and loved being the Lunanoffs and the Lïtæms, whose vast empires would no doubt be the bane of the darkness._

_However, in order to hold all the criminals, they needed a rather large and intimidating prison.  And so the royal families created one out of lead from deep within their planet’s cores and stowed it away to the farthest and darkest reaches of space, where the dreamthieves were held for eternity, until they became nothing but small, moaning shadows._

_And it was since then that the Golden Age has flourished. Travel amongst the stars is now common practice, and grandiose airships roam about the Seas of Space, filled with the cargo of hopes and dreams.  Imagination reigns supreme in each constellation, and everyone is a poet, as well as an inventor, composer, adventurer. The correct term for this is Imagineer, as you should very well know._

_In the Golden Age, no one is denied of anything, and no one knows any limits.  Everyone is equal, and there is no one in fear of anything.  Everyone is well-fed, and everyone gets to have their ideas heard.  The light of the stars is our guide- it was they who helped the people of the Celestials realize their wish and grant it._

_It was they who gave us the miracle._

“And that is all for today’s history lesson, my dear.  Any questions?” The old teacher closed the book, wrinkling his nose from the dust that shot out of the tome.  His moustache twitched from left to right, and his small brown eyes studied the pale child, grateful that the Queen allowed that the windows be blocked by thick curtains.  Last time was meager candlelight, and he couldn’t very well go over the lesson- his eyesight was failing as it is! 

            “Any questions at all, dearie?” he asked once more, setting the book aside.

            The child nodded. Finally! He was beginning to question whether the child retained any bit of the lesson at all.

            She began, silver pools searching for a sound to rest at. “I’m right here,” he chuckled, “Go on.”

            “W- why did they put them somewhere dark?”

            The old teacher blinked, “Because they were bad people, and they did a lot of wrong.”

            “But isn’t it bad to put them there?  They turned to shadows, and that isn’t nice… does that mean we’re bad too?  It isn’t fair to them.”

            The teacher chuckled once more, “Ahh, I see.  You feel sorry for them- I do, too.  It must be scary to eventually turn into a shade- a mere wisp of what once was.  But they needed to be punished, and it was the only way… You really are a true Lïtæm, little one.”

            “Mm?” she sounded, confused.

            The teacher continued, “The Lïtæm’s have been known for their benevolence and magnanimity, and you are no different, little one. Humble and passionate, the Lïtæm’s are, historically, the kindest royal family to ever rule. In fact, when they were planning to build the prison, your ancestor- Emperor Zephyr- wanted the prison to be built out of stardust, and for it to be situated in Andromeda, so they could have plenty of starlight.  He, as well as the people of this Constellation, believed that the criminals needed pure light, as well as “fresh wind, clean earth, good water, and warm meals” so as to show the poor degenerates a kindness that they themselves had probably never encountered.  I was just a boy, then.  My father, a captain of one of the Golden Army’s airships, agreed wholeheartedly to this. But,” 

            The teacher placed the book in his messenger bag, and sighed heavily, “the other royal Houses didn’t see it that way- they stole dreams, and they needed to be severely punished.  So, despite the tremendous amount of good it would’ve done for the Celestials, your grandfather’s idea was cast aside… that is what fear does to people’s minds- it makes them disregard the sake of the misunderstood.”

            Innogen swung her legs back and forth, a small smile gracing her face, “I liked grandfather’s idea better.”

            Although the girl couldn’t see it, the old teacher’s ancient eyes were brimming with tears, filled with the memories of the days long gone.  He leaned forward, the wooden chair creaking, and chuckled quietly, “Me too,” he ruffled her hair, “me too.”

            And so lessons for that day were dismissed.  The old teacher proceeded to report the day’s accomplishments to the child’s parents.  The child, however, was escorted back to her dark chambers so as to rest.

            “Tell us, old teacher,” the Queen’s sweet, musical voice requested, “how is our little Innogen getting along in her studies today?”

            “My Lady,” he began, “as always your daughter shows intelligence and wisdom beyond her years- she has, as of today, mastered astronomical calculations, and can pinpoint any star, planet, or comet if given proper measurements.  She is very attentive, and full of imagination and wonder.  However, her recent successes are not important as to what she has realized not too long ago.”

            At this, the King and Queen shifted in their thrones, leaning forward to hear what he had to say, “And what is it that she realized, old teacher?” the King asked, drumming his fingers on the throne’s arm in anticipation.

            The old one cleared his throat, and began, “Besides her only hindrance, she understands humanity.  I recited to her the beginnings of this Golden Age, and when I was finished, she felt for the plight of those whom eventually turned into darkness.  And so I proceeded to enlighten her with a little family history, or,” the old man chuckled heartily, “a family business- you recall the Dream of Emperor Zephyr, I suppose?”

            The King and Queen were nodding their heads in confirmation- how wise their daughter was!  Why, the King was so happy that he jumped out of his throne, bounded down the golden-carpeted steps, and gave the old teacher a good-natured hug as well as an enthusiastic slap on the back (but not too hard, mind you!).  The Queen could only radiate bliss.  She glided down the steps, dress shimmering from the daylight in its rainbow hues, and guided the teacher with her husband to the dining hall to celebrate with sweet champagne and savory meats.

            All the while, James heard it all, hiding underneath the windowsill, the panes open for some fresh air. Emerging from his hiding spot, James danced a small jig, wincing from his stiff muscles.  His sister had understood the misunderstood!  The concept that darkness was evil, totally bogus in her young mind!

            Done dancing, he hurried to the side of his sister’s chamber, just in time to see the large stone be pushed out. The small girl emerged from the dark hole, dusting off the stone’s dust from wherever she felt it.

            “Hello there, little Innogen,” he greeted, picking the little girl up in his arms.  She giggled, and held onto his head for support. Regaining her balance, she felt the strands of hair carefully, enjoying how small and straw-like they were.  Like the grass, only thinner.

            “Brother, what color is your hair?” she wanted to know.

            “My hair is brown, like yours. Only yours is much better than mine- it shines a rich gold in the sunlight.” He elaborated, putting her down so she could stretch her little legs.

            “And your eyes?” she took hold of his pant leg, walking with him through the garden- a daily practice.

            “Blue.  Yours are silver- they’re very beautiful, and sparkle like the stars themselves.” 

            “What is blue like?”

            “Well, blue can be many things, just like silver can be many things. Blue can be as dark as the night sky, or as light and airy as blue on a faraway cloud.  Silver can be as dull as a used tool, or as bright and luminescent as the silver lining of a cloud or twinkling stars.  Blue is very calming and quenching.  Silver is radiant and wise.”

            “What about the other colors? Red, and gold, and purple…”

            And so James conveyed the colors of the world. All of them and their extremes, their meanings, and what feelings they emitted.  It took a great deal of thought, but he knew it wasn’t finished. There were the things in between- and that is _a lot_ of things.  How he was going to explain them all, he just couldn’t grasp.

            Soon Ætheros was released from his studies, and proceeded to relieve James from the duty of caring for Innogen in secrecy, “Come, Innogen!” He exclaimed, grabbing her hand, “Let us go explore the Forest of Corruption!  Here, take your blade!”

            He produced another wooden sword from his sash, and sprinted into the trees with Innogen in tow, shouting “For the lost Eftäl; to the holy city of Shüwa!”

            James stood looking after the two, a tad dumbfounded by the little firecracker’s cries. “Ah,” he remembered, “Ancient History.”

            The adventures of Ætheros of Pejtei and Innogen of Eftäl waned into the twilight hours of the day.  They (mostly Ætheros) fought against behemoth Heedras, living biological weapons, and the Keepers of the Crypt.  Innogen exercised her power of wisdom and peacemaking, and was astoundingly superior at it.  She had no need for her sword.

            But soon the Crypt had to be abandoned, and the heroics put aside.  All negotiations had to come to halt, for it was supper time- and that meant that Innogen had to return to her quarters.  The servants would come at any moment to deliver the little one’s food.

            So she went on her knees and crawled back into her dark room, James pushing the stone back in place.  He kneeled and cupped his hands against the cold, hard stone, saying, “We’ll play after supper, alright Innogen?  Enjoy your dinner, and remember not to mention our playing together.”

            “Yes, brother.” Her little voice sounded through the thick rock.

            James smiled, “That’s my girl.” he cooed.

 

~

 

            Dinner consisted of a thick and savory stew as the entrée, hot bread, and tea for the little one.  The maid was guided by the usual candlelight that danced around the walls in the girl’s room.  She always shuddered for how quiet and cold it was, and never could fathom how the little one could stand to live in such a place for everyday of her life.  The guards stood watch at the entrance- a daily ritual as well.  Besides the maid, they were the little one’s only company when allowed to enter.

            “Supper is here, little Majesty,” she spoke softly, sweetly, “Hot stew and bread, and tea with honey.”  The little girl stood from where she sat and padded over to where she heard the maid.  She held her hands out as she approached and slowed to a crawl when she knew she was close.  Soon she found the table, and so she sat on one of the many pillows strewn across the room.

            “Thank you,” said the little one, “it smells delicious.”  The maid couldn’t help but smile at the girl’s kindness, “You’re welcome,” she said, “Now eat up.”

            The maid told stories from what she had read in books, as well as news from the Celestials and neighboring Constellations.  Innogen only listened as she ate, speaking when necessary, but otherwise enjoying everything the maid went on about.

            However, Innogen wasn’t there with the maid fully- her mind had wandered off to previous memories.  The servant girl noticed, and remarked, “You seem dazed today, little one.  Are you tired?”

            The silver pools looked straight into her eyes now, and she couldn’t help but feel drawn to them- they were surprisingly hypnotizing.  They appeared sad and far-off- the maid frowned, “What is the matter?”

            “Am I ugly?” the little one asked, voice steady and sure, as if already knowing the answer.

            The maid was taken by surprise- “Ugly?!  No, you most certainly are _not,_ my little Majesty!  Why, who told you?”  The only way a thought like that could appear in her clean mind was by someone planting it in her purposefully!

            “No one,” she lied- the maid knew, “I was just wondering, because I can’t see myself.” 

            The maid stroked her cheek, and opened her mouth to ask who again, when she was interrupted.

            “If my little Lady may permit me,” the old guard began, “but I believe that you are the prettiest little flower that I have ever seen- I’d be a blessed father if I had a daughter such as yourself.” he admitted, and it was true- everyone knew the story of the old guard – Sir Evanire.  He was once married, but soon his young wife fell ill, and died.  He had vowed to never marry again- for you can only fall into true love once.  However, he had always adored children, and wished to have some of his own.  The children of the palace were treated as if they were his when he was recruited to guard the family years upon years ago.

            He could only love and care for little Innogen- he has been guarding her since birth, and felt that this was his only purpose in life so far.

            The young guard- Sir Corbel- agreed, and added, “My Lady will be the envy of all the girls of the Celestials.” he grinned, “Mark me, Genevive,” he held up his finger in warning at the maid, “this little one’s going to rival the stars in their shine one day.”

            All the while, Innogen smiled at the kindness from her friends- how she cherished them so.  The stories and lightheartedness continued into the night until it was time for bed.

            It was when everyone was retired did the children hop out of their beds and climb out the windows to gather and truly begin playing with Innogen.  Phoebus would leave his father’s residence and cross the streets to the palace garden, being allowed by the guards, who knew exactly what took place every night.  They wouldn’t be good guards if they didn’t know!

            They knew that little Innogen escaped from her cold chambers every afternoon and night.  They knew that the children helped her escape.  They knew that they taught her many things- like how to adventure properly, and how to have impeccable table manners, and how to wield a (play)sword.  In fact, they helped her in all of this- it’d be cruel if they didn’t.

            So they guarded the children every night, making sure that their parents would never wake up to the rule-breaking.  They played with them, and made sure that they were all quiet enough.  Their system was so immaculate that the guards from the Pitchiner residence communicated with them via light code from castle watchtowers.

            The lessons began with manners and politeness.  Ælysia would not have her only sister lack proper etiquette.  The boys would assist, much to Ælysia’s approval and Phoebus’ blushing.

            After came defense and weaponry training, which was at first questionable, but unanimously agreed upon since the other day’s events.  James and Phoebus handled this with great care, emphasizing that she was to never harm another living thing unless if she absolutely needed to.

            Then came a small resting period where literature was recited, and songs interpreted, led by the three eldest.  Ætheros and Innogen listened in rapt attention, their minds soaring at such beautifully sculpted ideas and tales.

            The last event of the night was the pantheon of lessons- Adventuring.  Led by Ætheros, the group trekked fantastical lands and vanquished many a formidable opponent with their bravery, and conquered great tasks with skill and wisdom.

            Tonight they picked up from where they left off- the great race to Shüwa!  The raging, innocent giant was played by James, and the princess of the neighboring war-like nation was played by Ælysia, Phoebus being her right hand man.

            In this final chapter of the adventure, Innogen was to be left alone as the others fought the corrupted people of the holy city on the outside.  She was to be inside the crypt, deciding whether to destroy the core of old technology or not.

             The children fought for quite a long time, and soon grew tired, hot and sticky from their constant jumping and dodging.  James wiped the sweat from his forehead, and called out, “Innogen, are you done?  What happened to the crypt?”

            All that sounded was the wind rustling the trees and the others panting.

            “Innogen?”

            …Nothing.

            They broke out into a run, pushing branches away from their path in frantic anticipation, “Innogen! Innogen!” they called out.  Yet they never received an answer.  

            That is, until, they saw a strange light shine from behind a shield of bushes.  They could hear faint laughter emanating from the other side.  The light that reached them shone a dazzling, soft blue, and tickled their noses.

            James pushed a few branches aside, “Innogen?” he asked the light, and looked on at the amazing spectacle before him.  Seeing as her brother stood with his mouth agape like a fool, Ælysia reprimanded him, “James, it is not polite to stare.  And just what are you gaping at?” she pushed aside the branches to get out of the crowded bush.

            She soon shared her brother’s awe, for before them took place the most amazing and wonderful phenomenon to behold.

            James could only stutter at the sheer providence of it all- his prayers had been answered! Literally! For there sat little Innogen, surrounded by tendrils of what appeared to be raw stardust- still alight with power.

            One could just hear the stars whispering through them, faintly- many voices speaking in kind, sweet unison.  Only Innogen knew what they were saying, for the others couldn’t understand.  To them, it sounded like ancient gibberish, but Innogen nodded and giggled and “hm’d” and “ahh’d” at all they had to say.  Looking up, the children could see that the stars shone brighter, and twinkled with what came across as happiness.

            After a while, the tendrils of light retreated back to their celestial homes in the sky.  It was only then that the children felt that they could approach Innogen.

            James took hold of Innogen, “Are you alright?  You’re not hurt, are you?  What did the stars tell you?  Were you able to understand them?” - questions in that manner, as one can imagine.

            “I’m fine brother.  The stars told me that they’ll help you in teaching me things, and just now told me about the colors.” She answered honestly.

            “Ah, yes, goo- all of them?”

            She nodded, “Mmhm, they told me about all of them- lilac, gold, azure, cream, and many others… I like them all.”

            Phoebus nodded in understanding, Ælysia was looking up in wonder, and Ætheros was scouring the area for stray stardust.  James accepted this fact- the stars can do impossible things whenever they wanted, and in any amount of time they chose.

            And when they delivered, they _delivered._

            All he could only do was ask, “And what was your favorite part of the lesson?”

            She smiled at this question, “I could feel each color.  My favorite was feeling warmth.”


	4. Cold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The journey begins.

Part IV

Cold

 

            _Red- the color of passion and warmth.  It tastes of thick sweetness and robustness.  It sounds off celebration and ambition.  It is felt in embraces, hearths, and in hearts._

_It is the color of radicals.  It is the color of blood, of change.  It is desire as well as anger._

_Orange is the color of zeal.  It tastes of effervescent sweetness that tickles the tongue.  It sounds of confidence and pure forgiveness- like laughter.  Felt in excitement and exhilaration._

_It could also be the color of insanity, if zeal turns to uncontrolled extremism._

_Yellow is the color of happiness.  Tasting of stimulating sourness, it sounds like singing birds, clever discernment, clapping, whistling, and smiles.  However, it is the color of those who are exhausted due to overexerting themselves…_

_And of course there is much more._

It was as if the world was vacuumed out.  All was still, all was blanketed with white.  The skies were overcast and grey, the mountains a deep purple, covered with icy mist.  The trees were naked, save for the frost that decorated its branches.

            And all one could here was the distant call of wind too far off.  As if that empty, resonating call was made up of everyone’s breaths, which floated away in puffy wisps to the great unknown.  To that sound so far off.

            And again James could not sleep.  He was kept awake by his thoughts, a fever and parched throat keeping him company (as they have been for the past few days).  Yet another, quieter companion plagued him- anxiety.

            He had yet to ask his parents of a reasonable quest to take on, and the fleet of airships was approaching the port at great speeds.  It was then that he would have to board onto one of them and depart from his home for a long, long time.  

            The ships would arrive any day now.

            “ _The Stars will keep you company, and grant you safe passage,”_ said his heart, “ _Look at what they have done so far.”_

            He finally felt at peace.  The stars have kept their promise- every day since that night they have graced their home with their presence.  Even on days like this, when the skies were covered, they appeared in his little sister’s sleep.  And every day, she would report what the Stars had taught her.

            Why, he had even heard her sing!  She sounded wonderful.  She also danced, and was as graceful as the wind.  His heart felt terribly happy, and he smiled, tears gathering at the corners of his eyes.  His breathing quickened at the thoughts of joy.

            The happiness was short lived, for a great fit of coughing erupted from his lungs.  He fell asleep when the bouts of coughing finally exhausted him.

 

~

 

            Phoebus felt as if the room was a furnace.  He felt his grip on the pencil tighten, and his lines thicken.  The drawing was beautiful, he thought, but the one looking over his shoulder much more so.  Meanwhile, Ælysia read her book peacefully, occasionally glancing to see what Phoebus was drawing.  It appeared to be clouds hanging over the mountains.  She just couldn’t wait to see him color it in.  Would it be during sunrise, or sunset?  She was terribly curious.

            “Phoebus,” she tapped his shoulder, “what color are the clouds going to be?”

           He blushed profusely, though the girl didn’t seem to notice, “I was thinking it’d be much better if it was during sunset.”

            Ælysia nodded, and began to twirl her black hair on her finger.  She looked to the doors of the library with anticipation, and craned her neck to hear anything.  Anything would be good right now.

            Nothing.

            _“They’ve been discussing the quest for hours now,”_ she thought worriedly, _“when will they finish?  What will James do?  He’s been sick.”_

            And he has been waiting to go on that quest for years now.  It was every little boy’s dream to go on a quest whether they were to enlist in the Golden Army or not, and James Lïtæm was no different.

            _“But that means leaving his family behind.  And no matter how strong James says he is, he would miss us terribly.”_ Ælysia frowned, _“Especially Innogen.”_

            All of a sudden a strong gust of wind blew in from the mountains, taking with it the mountain chill, probably a few hats, and the spirit of a young man.  And Ælysia knew with all her heart that James would soon come out of those doors- the wind always called to him.  And she couldn’t blame him- he was stressed enough already.  Why deny him of his simple pleasures?

            “I wonder how he’s doing.” Phoebus muttered, already knowing the answer as he sketched wispy cirrus amongst a sea of fat cumuli.

            As if on cue, James emerged from the library, and quietly closed the doors behind him.  A shadow covered his eyes, and a regretful expression painted his face.  He looked to them, and said in a thick voice, “I’m going flying.”

            Yet there was a storm stirring outside, and Ælysia knew that when he was upset he overexerted himself.  Not to mention that he was ill.  Why, his face was flushed and misted with sweat.  He was in absolutely no shape to fly.

            “James,” she began cautiously, rising from the chair, Phoebus following after.  But he already began to walk briskly out of the study and to the garden.

 

~

 

            She awoke from a dream of the most vivid sounds- an orchestral harmony of the winds, the waters, and the earth.  Yet it all ended in mere moments of steady breathing, blinking, and shifting in the hot covers.  The vibrating strings were gone, as well as the resonating pipes and trumpets.  The drum’s steady, thunderous beat was gone, and the melody of voices died.

            She felt around her for a little bit, and yawned.  Next to her slept Ætheros, whose small breaths kept her company.  She poked his cheek for a little bit, noting how soft and squishy it felt, and lied back down on the soft pillows.

            Compared to her cold, hollow quarters, Ælysia’s room was lovely- warm and inviting.  The chill didn’t seem to exist here, and she was able to see her siblings every day, and explore the palace without running the risk of breaking any rules.  And even then, the stars were able to visit her and teach her things.  Things like languages, music, dancing, and Starspeak.

            They even told her how to fly.  Levitation was possible for her, and “most importantly,” said the stars, “how to eat while flying- good table manners included.”  It may seem silly to adults, they explained, but even the most whimsical of skills were useful.  They said, _“As long as you believe it, it will be.”_

            And so they told her the only magic words she’ll ever have to know.  And she kept them in her heart-

 

_I believe._

            The doors opened.  Sitting up, she asked sleepily, “Ælysia?”  

            She was lifted into James’ chest and was cradled there, “Maybe.” He replied in a terrible falsetto.  Innogen laughed, and felt his face and its warmth.  She felt terrible that he was sick, but was glad that she was living being his usual cheery self.

            The wind howled against the windows they were passing by, the skies an intimidating grey.  Innogen perked up at the shuddering window panes, and reached out to touch the glass.  James stepped closer and let her slide her hands along the cold, quivering window.

            “It’s so cold… Can we go outside, brother?”  she asked curiously, a small hope reflected in her eyes.  And in that instant James realized that it was all unfair.  It was unfair that the eyes which reflected everything- including her deepest emotions- out into the world.  Yet it never let anything in- no light, or color, or other living being.

            She was left in the dark.  And that’s how it would stay.

            A squall soon blasted their faces with cold, stinging air.  They squinted against such a gale and pushed to the castle tower where the glider was docked to the roof.  Running inside the stone building, James forced the door shut with great force, rubbing his hands from the biting cold.

            Grabbing hold of the thick cloaks hanging from the nearby hooks, he tenderly wrapped Innogen up in the thick, toasty fur, making sure she was nice and snug.  Fixing goggles around her eyes, he said with directness, “I am to teach you how to fly, little Innogen.  When we are done, you will be the ruler of any sky you meet.”

            “But brother,” her voiced was muffled behind the cloak, “there is a storm out.  And the stars have taught me how to levitate and fly already.  You should rest.”

            James knew she was right, and his entire being told him to listen to her.  But he couldn’t- he _needed_ to spend time with her.  He promised himself that he would teach her to fly before the quest, and now was the perfect time.

            He promised himself that he would spend one last afternoon with her before the ships whisked him away tomorrow.

            “I do not doubt that the stars have taught you many amazing things,” he remarked in his warm, strong voice, “but I want to teach you how to fly with a glider.  It’s the least I can do.”

            Innogen shifted in her footing and played with her hands, “But you’ll get even more sick.  You don’t have to teach me things every day.” she protested quietly.  The wind moaned in agreement.

            He sighed heavily, and kneeled before her, gripping her arms-”Please, little Innogen- let me do this one task I promised myself I’d do.  After we finish we’ll rest and go to bed early.  Does that sound promising to you?”

            After a few moments in deep thought and a few flashes of silver from her eyes, she nodded.  With that, James smiled and picked her up to make the long journey up the winding stairs.  Steadily they rose to the tower’s tope floor, which held a myriad of tools and parts of metal gliders that were in construction.  Taking the usual precautions he tied a thick rope around the both of them, eyeing over the knot for a few minutes for added measure.

            After all the harnesses were scrutinized and safety procedures scrupulously achieved, James decided it was time to lift off.  Tightening their tethers, he elucidated what was to be expected.

            “Alright Innogen-  In order to get to the glider, we’re going to slide to it by a harness.  Now, what pushes you to the glider are the strong air currents.  I suggest to never do this on a still day, for one can risk falling off.  One can always obtain a running start in an open field and kick off from the ground, but many find it easier to do this when in haste… do you understand all of that?”

            Innogen could only nod, a radiant grin lighting her eyes aflicker.

            “Oh good.” he smiled, unfastening the rusted latch and climbing the ladder to the outside, Innogen strapped to his torso.  The wind whipped the wooden doors open as soon as he let go of them, and he knew he had to shout from now on.

            The coming rain bit at his skin and bounced off the goggles, lightning growling in the nearing distance.

            He needed to get to the Æther before the storm engulfed them.  It was the only way to confirm their safety.

            Holding the harness fast, he ran off the dock and let the wind do the rest.  Gravity pulled at his feet and arm muscles, begging him to let go.  The wind continued to moan disdainfully, and the dark clouds growled in scorn.

            He wanted to laugh- the elements were fighting!  The light wasn’t allowed into the argument, as usual, for the light always calmed every uproar.  No, the elements wanted to bicker.  He could only smirk.

            Now that he hauled himself onto the glider, he shouted over the garrulous din with glee, “Now we tie ourselves to the glider!”  he did so in a few, quick, expert movements.  A twiddle of the fingers, and the lifeline was secured.

            “Now what?!” Innogen shouted, huddling into her cloak for protection from the mocking rain.

            “Now?” he laughed, bending over to undo the safety, “We fly!!” he bellowed, glider being ripped from its port and into the churning skies.  Innogen screamed with delight as she felt themselves be carried into the atmosphere- it was such a light, feathery feeling, which was soon rocked with uncertainty as the glider pitched and tossed from the fighting winds.  Yet she swore she could hear James laugh with a stunning ring.

            “The winds never truly fight- there is always a current of equilibrium between two opposing gusts.  When you find it, never let it go unless if you’re certain of the currents around you.”  He informed, leaning back on the glider to fly upward and soon finding an area of tranquility.

            A strange sound emanated from behind them, James responding by quickly diving into the winds below, tilting his weight into the nose of the glider dramatically. He shot upward again, this time pressing his foot down on the thrusters for extra push.

            “What was that?!” the little one spluttered water from her lips, noting her brother’s liquid movements.

            “Wind shear!! Only very experienced wind riders can fight through those, but it’s best if you were to avoid those altogether!”  He shouted, not mentioning the tales of stalling aircraft and accidents.

            The white bird climbed higher and higher into the sky, twisting and turning as the rider compelled it to.  Though the lightning flashed and wind howled, the riders chanted in their hearts and into the coming peace, _“I believe, I believe, I believe.”_

            The wind quieted, the rain fell away, and the earthly fetters snapped from them.  They were released from the bonds of chaos and confusion, and felt serenity.  Before the two was nothing but pure blue skies and the bright sun- the faint echo of the faraway winds greeted them. 

            “Where are we, James?” Innogen asked breathlessly, always cognizant of her surroundings- she was aware that they were in a place of calm.

            “We are in the realm of which little Ætheros was named after.  This place is called the Æther- the place of celestial air that clouds never venture to.  It is the burial ‘grounds’ of falling stars, they say.”  He breathed in the crisp air deeply- this could purify any malicious emotions and sickness, if exposed to it long enough.  The light here was lively and gentle- James knew that Innogen will forever cherish this place.

            A small breeze blew, and Innogen laughed, “The air here is sweet!” she opened her mouth and gulped in the unsullied air, smiling brightly at its flavor.

            They glided around for a few minutes, James teaching her the many sound charms to distract and calm disgruntled masses. Sound charms are used by wind riders frequently, for violence is never the answer.  High frequency charms (the smallest) were to be used on animals, the low frequency ones (the biggest) on people.  If used incorrectly, the crowds would get only more irritated by the shrill sounds, and the animals would pay no mind.  

            The charms made wonderful sounds; the larger charms sounded like cooing owls “OOoooOOooo~”.  The smaller ones sounded like shrill little birds, “IIiiiIIiii~”.  Innogen could only smile at such silly yet beautiful sounds each made.  She memorized each one by heart.

            Soon it was time to return home- now this was the most difficult part, for the wind would be against them.  James explained this all into detail, and added, “But have no fear- we’ll be home in time for supper.  Besides, this glider is holding two of the Celestial’s finest wind riders!”

            With that for self-assurance, he dipped into the roiling clouds and braced for the worst.

            The winds and rain welcomed them with an onslaught of gusts and lashes, yet this never phased the young man.  He rode the wind with regal elegance and domination, not letting the angry elements get the best of him.  _“They aren’t angry at you,”_ said his heart, _“they’re angry at what’s to come.”_

            “And what is to come?” he asked the air, grunting in frustration at the whipping winds.  Yet his heart never answered back.  He finally realized why this storm was here, and he felt like an emotional fool for not realizing it sooner.

            It was here to prevent him from riding.  Why?  Even he didn’t know, but he knew better than to question his sudden premonitions.  He could see the ground now, and dipped into a ninety degree position to hurry- he didn’t want to challenge the lightning today.

            The landing was rough- the nose of the glider dug itself into the wet, soggy earth of the field.  James had winced at the thought of buffing out any serious scratches, but tucked the glider into the castle tower with haste, running into the main sprawl with little Innogen cradled in his smarting arms.

            He shut the fighting door with heaving breaths, gripping Innogen tightly with decisiveness- they were safe.  Tired, but safe- his mission was accomplished.  A hot meal and warm bed sounded heavenly to them both, so with content grins they removed the now sodden cloaks from their backs and made their way to their sister’s room to change out of their damp clothes.  

            Rummaging through his sister’s many clothes, he found a small, warm dress and soft pants for Innogen.  For himself, simple attire of a dress shirt and pants- he wasn’t the flashy type.  Fitting on both their shoes, he touted quietly, “You did wonderful out there, Innogen!  A little more practice and lessons, and you’ll master all the Celestials!  Mother and Father would be proud, though let’s not mention this to them just yet, okay?”

            She nodded enthusiastically, eyes twinkling with happiness.  James’ own eyes crinkled at the corners with love, and kissed her forehead, “Let us eat.”

 

~

 

            The King and Queen were not worried.  No, no… that would be an understatement!  They were on the verge of sending legions of sky soldiers to search for their precious children; they would’ve stopped the storm if they could.  Here sat two out of the four- Ælysia had her hands clasped in apprehension, while Ætheros gazed out the window with his golden eyes for the longest time.

            And of course they all knew what James was up to- he wanted one last adventure with his beloved sister, and who could have the heart to deny him of a simple wish?  They all knew he was a clever, levelheaded boy, so they had no worry of his skills failing him.  It was his health they were worried about.  Both his and Innogen’s were not the strongest, and the storm calmed none of their nerves.

            The door creaked open slowly, enlivening their spirits when they saw the two enter in unharmed and happy.  Smiling tenderly, the Queen clapped her hands and dinner was served.  Why, even the servants had looks of gratitude, and appeared weary from anxiety as they served the dishes.  James politely apologized for his lateness, and promised to practice his punctuality when given the time, but he needn’t apologize- he was forgiven before he took to the skies.

            Dinner consisted of seafood dressed in mountain vegetables and seasoned with spices from the faraway deserts.  The fruits were simmered in honey encrusted with the crystallized sugars, still very warm.  The beverages consisted of hot chamomile teas to bubbling cups of chocolate with ground hazelnut, as well as champagne for the King and Queen.  The family enjoyed a wonderful supper altogether, indifferent of the events that were to take place tomorrow.

            Everyone soon went off to their rooms as the warmth and richness of the meal got to them.  The children quickly hurried off, wanting to see the Stars cascade their knowledge once again and visit the little one.  The lesson was over flying once more, much to their fondness.  The soft white light enveloped the room, and small, musical whispers danced through the air.

            However, once the tendrils dissolved into the air, the children immediately climbed into bed, worn out from the long day.  James wanted to sleep with Innogen once again, much to Ætheros’ pouting.  Seeing as it was only fair, they agreed, and set off for their dreamscapes.

            Innogen was already nodding off, attempting to open her eyes in vain to stay awake for just a little longer.  And how would it feel to a three-year-old to learn that her older brother is to be sent away for a long time?  The mere thought of it troubled James to the point where his eyes stung.

            But then he remembered his gift!  Taking out a small wooden box, he opened it to reveal an exquisite silver locket with decorative flourishes engraved into it.  “Innogen,” he rubbed her arm gently, “I have a gift for you… here.”

            Her eyes opened at the feel of cool metal touching her skin.  Feeling the locket with rapt interest, James chuckled, and said, “It’s so you can remember all of us.  Engraved inside it are the words, “ _Always with you_ ,” so that you know that, although we may be far apart, we’re with you in your heart.”  He touched her center lightly, indicating where he would be found if she ever needed him.

            Genuine bliss washed over her and appeared in the form of gleaming eyes and a small smile- her brother was just too thoughtful- he had such a big heart!  Climbing into his arms, she placed a hand where his heart was, “And I’ll always be with you.”

            He held her close, much to her approval, for she heard the most incredible thing!  “Brother,” she exclaimed weakly, “I hear drums!”  James laughed, but to Innogen it sounded like a harmony of deep strings and drum-beats, she listened with reverence and tranquility.

            “You have a beautiful drum-beat, brother,” she yawned, “Good night.”

            Her small breaths floated through the room, and James was once again left alone with his thoughts.  His breath became ragged as if he was never healed for even a moment.  Thoughts of great sorrow crept in on him once more- he was at the mercy of slumber’s arrival, now.

            Then the pain settled in.  His muscles ached and his head throbbed, throat on fire, eyes burning.  He could feel a coughing fit forming in the back of his dry throat, but he somehow kept it at bay.  He didn’t want to think of this wretched cold anymore, so he focused his attention on Innogen.  She rose and fell with the steady rhythm of his chest, ear planted over his heart.  Her words still echoed through his mind:

            “You have a beautiful drum-beat, brother.”

            He wrapped his arms around her small, delicate form and kissed the top of her head.  Stroking her long hair, he felt waves of exhaustion and slumber cascade over him.  His eyelids grew heavy, and his breathing grew slower and ever deeper.

            Anguish spilled from his closing eyes- he didn’t want to leave his family.  He wanted to stay here like this forever, with a little Innogen to hold and keep warm.

            He fought the darkness that overtook him, but before he could lose to it his heart made a final pledge: _“I will always be with you.”_

 

~

 

            She could feel the light shining on her skin ever so gently.  There was no wind out, and the birds twittered. The storm had finally passed.

            Brother was usually up before she was, Innogen thought.  Flexing her fingers, stretching ever so slightly, she took hold of her brother’s gentle, caressing hand, only to giggle. She lifted her head to face him, “Brother, your hands are freezing!”

            The birds sang.

            “Time to wake up, brother.” She tugged at his clothes.

            …

            “Brother, where is your drum-beat?  I can’t hear it anymore.”

 


	5. Variations of Light & Shadow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fifteen years later.

Part V

Variations of Light & Shadow

 

            His eyes stung from the hot sweat dripping down his forehead.  Wiping it away in frustration, he continued to tinker on the small music box in vain attempt to get today’s cruel jeers out of his mind.

 

            It wasn’t working.

 

            So he did what his sister would do- he sang.

 

            _Vibrant tranquility and soothing decay,_

_The grass and trees are painted this way._

_Life and death all in one,_

_Green is equilibrium._

_Of the highest skies and deepest seas,_

_Fall tears of creativity._

_Thick sighs of peace and ringing bliss,_

_Blue jasmines line the lingering mists._

_Regal and mystical alike,_

_Fear is the natural spite._

_Majestic fanfare and beauty sound,_

_Purple is compassion renowned._

            Although most would find this ridiculous, he sang and hummed all the way through.  He always loved Innogen’s clever poems and nonsense-songs- how they always highlighted the small things in life.  It was no fair, he thought, for such an imaginative person be locked away from the things she loved most.

            And no matter how much he could beg and cry and fight, Invennero would be totally ignored, regarded upon as too young to discern situations and passions.  But he knew otherwise, and his older sister believed in him especially.

            He remembered fondly when his eldest sister Ælysia birthed her first child- three years ago, with Phoebus Pitchiner as the proud father.  The entire family was there to watch the newest member take his first breaths of the new world he was brought into.  Small locks of his mother’s black hair had already grown on his small delicate head, and his skin was a rosy pink like that of a young flower petal.  In awe, they looked on at the beautiful phenomena of the gift of birth in reverent, hushed silence.  Ælysia glowed like a star that day, smiling and cooing at the little one with motherly affection and care.  And, although she couldn’t see the small one, Innogen radiated with warmth as well.  She never left her sister’s side once for the first few days, and whispered words of happiness and greetings to the newborn’s small ear.  Invennero was in a euphoric like state for the time as well, and crashed back to reality when his mundane schedule resumed.

            Time continued to pass as it did the week before the birth, continued to pass as it did the year before that, and didn’t dare to linger as it did fifteen years ago.  Time, although arguably ephemeral, can be unbearably heavy and excessive.  Of course, he wouldn’t compare his prim little daily schedule to Innogen’s harsh captivity, but he did long for a change, and found that, if he paid close enough attention to things like his sister did, he would find flaws in everything.

            “And that,” as Innogen said, “is the beauty of everything.”

            He giggled at the strangeness of her certainty- and it was true!  All the things in this realm was flawed, but not corrupted, per se.  Of all the time that she has lived, she built an archive of small sayings and truths that would never seem to cross a person’s mind.  He loved his sister for her disposition- whenever he would begin to descend into thoughts of self-loathing imparted upon by others, she saw his flaws as advantages and chances for small adventures in betterment.  He would cheer up instantly, and fret no more.

            He smiled as he fitted the music box’s outer metal mouldings with gleaming screws.  Blowing his black hair out of his face with a huff, he looked out the cottage window and to the golden fields.  He wouldn’t deny it if his sister was there, drinking her fill of the air in silent, respectful sips.

 

~

 

_Drip_

_Drip_

_Drip_

He was found with the liquid life dripping slowly from the corner of his mouth.  Yet he had a smile on his face that could have only been a gift from happiness.

            The leaves rustled through the air, passing a farewell ceremony that sent off the spirit of the young man beyond the reach of any starship to ever exist.  With him, he took several heart-shards and tears of love and sorrow.  It was his greatest adventure that he would never return from.  Embarking on the journey, he left with a complete heart- the only proper way to leave.

            It is a journey that everyone would eventually experience, with or without a whole heart.

 

            The Stars were calling her from her memories again.  Sitting up from the cool grass, she stretched her arms up as if in salutation to them.  She recalled her memories fondly, and embraced the present with high hopes.  Frowning and moping would not do, after all- one must move on and send those who are no longer present thoughts of love and light.

            If one was there while the Stars visited, they would say they heard the sounds of wind chimes swaying in the wind.  She heard their small voices call out to her lovingly, eager to teach knew things and give words of wisdom.  They came from galaxies upon galaxies away, or from the local star-systems not too far off.  Some said hello (for they just arrived) and some continued the conversation they held just the other day.  Some taught new songs and rhymes while others informed her how to calculate immense totals of distances and numbers, simultaneously!  And she politely listened to what they said, remembering every bit of story and hymn.  It was all she could do, really- she learned by listening and doing.  She could only imagine what the Stars’ sifting forms looked like- glowing and soft.  

            She could only imagine a lot of things, really.  She could only imagine how her family looked.  She could only imagine what the sky looked like, or how the shining of the sun appeared.  She could only imagine what colors were, or what light looked like.  She only knew what darkness looked like, for it was what she stared into day after day after day.

            She didn’t hate the darkness, no- that’d be like rebuffing friendship from your only acquaintance.  She was glad of its company, yet she felt that it could be hollow at times.  It needed its counterpart- light, and from there colors would be born.  But she knew that no matter how bright a light is, she would never see a glimpse of it.  No hopeful slivers or bleeding saturated glows through closed eyelids.  She had only smell, sound, taste, touch, and darkness to guide her, and she was thankful for what senses she had left.

            _Please say hello to your family for us, Innogen.  We must go now- until tomorrow._

 _Of course,_ she smiled, _Farewell._

            That was how Stars were- incredibly punctual and prompt when it came to business matters.  They would have loved to stay and played some games or sing songs, but they knew that the girl would soon be preoccupied with matters she must attend to- caring for her little brother and her nephew.  They too, had their own duties to uphold, besides watching over the Celestials.  For the longest time, the Stars spoke and communicated to each other through their twinkling and spoke of how they fared and how their people thrived.  Occasionally a Star’s people were in danger, so help was always sent to its aid.  And very rarely did a Star reach the end of its life and leave with a dazzling message of colors and farewells. 

            So they continued to buzz and flicker from joy of completing another lesson with the Starchild, and so planned the next day’s lesson amongst talk of new Stars being born a few galaxies over.

 

~

 

            The carriage wobbled down the cobblestone path, making the little boy smile at the many bumps and sways the ride caused.  Looking at his pretty mother watch the colors of the sky with her long black hair cascading over her shoulders, he sighed in content.  He looked to his father, whose golden eyes shined in mutual excitement.  They were going to visit his young aunt and uncle.

            He bounced up and down in the cushioned seat at the thought of the fun they were to have, and continued to ponder on these sparking thoughts.  His uncle Inve surely had another little tinker he could play with, and aunt Inno would have more wonderings to ponder on and adventures to brave.  He tugged on his father’s sleeve (although he would rather tug on his short, thin ponytail), and inquired, “Father, where do you suppose today’s adventure will take us?”

            Despite all that General Phoebus Pitchiner had seen and lost, he would never stop the seemingly childish activity of adventuring.  He knew that he would lose himself and the memory of who he had lost if he ever did stop.  He felt obliged to continue to guide Innogen, just as James had took it upon himself.  Of course the Stars now did most of the work, adventuring was left to them, and he couldn’t be happier.  The only answer he could give his son was, “To the Stars, little Kozmotis.”

            Kozmotis’ pondered on this for a second, and shook his head in agreement.  He returned to gazing out the window from his father’s lap, finding shapes among the clouds.  Ælysia smiled- for there was not one day when she didn’t smile- at the moments of now and the memories past.  She sighed in comfort, and rubbed her husband’s hand in loving affection.  He was caught by surprise and blushed lightly (still a young adolescent at heart) and brought her hand to his lips, kissing it lovingly.

            Ælysia chuckled in shyness, and shook his shoulder so as to get his attention- the carriage had stopped.  They had finally arrived.  Stepping off, the two gentlemen couldn’t help but stretch from stiffness.  Ælysia scolded them lightly, slapping their protruding stomachs with playful affection.  Kozmotis couldn’t help but giggle at the sight of their unusual silliness- a royal family, the General of the Golden Army himself being coddled upon by his wife.  

            Well, it was usual for them.  They proceeded without fanfare (as requested) and received embraces from the King and Queen, who were now aged with life and love.  They spoke of any recent happenings and goings-on, and fussed over their grandson with the greatest affections.  Once all that was said and done, the young family made their way to the garden, still a path well-travelled by the two senior adventurers.

            Watching their blooming legacy descend to the trees, Mathius and Elysium took each other’s hands and went back inside.  They’ve known for a long time about their children’s little adventures, and saw no point as to stop them.  Of course they worried that Innogen would get hurt and fall even more ill due to the sunlight initially, but they noticed that her activities made her a healthier, happier child.  So they allowed them to play in the sun, but absolutely refused for her to take to the skies.  Exhaustion and sickness claimed their firstborn, and it certainly wouldn’t happen to their fourth.

            “Do you suppose the Stars have already visited our little Innogen?” the Queen wondered, gazing out the grand window to the fields.  

            Mathius smiled and stroked his wife’s graying hair, “I suppose so.  According to Old Sir Evanire, the Stars have been descending earlier and earlier than they used to.”

            Elysium looked to the orange sky, as if searching for answers, “One can only wonder why.”

            Mathius held his wife close, stroking her arm as he pondered, “Perhaps it may be that James just can’t wait until nightfall.”

            She sighed as tears brimmed in her old eyes.  Turning to embrace her husband, she said shakily, “Oh, how I miss my boy, my dear, dear boy.”

            And the Old King could do nothing but hold his wife and speak of comforting things as he watched the outside world converge.

 

~

 

            He ran against the wind, uncaring of his fellow officers shouting in protest at such unnecessary haste.  He didn’t stop when he bumped into anyone (much less those of higher rank) and only yelled “Sorry!” into the air in front of him, not daring to look back.  He looked back plenty of times already- he wasn’t going to look back again for fear that he may be taken away again.

            “Where’s the fire, lad?!”  his captain shouted from the lookout of the ship, shaking his head at the rushing youth in amusement.

            “Inside me!  Goodbye, Captain!”  he shouted back, laughter lining his voice.  Meanwhile the young man’s friends threw little pebbles or dirtied clothes in his direction, urging him to run ever faster.

            He didn’t need to be told to run faster- his heart told him enough already.  And so with a great hollering whoop he bounded down the streets and weaved through the bustling crowd with ease.

            “That there lad has a spark I haven’t seen in years,” the old captain shook his head, “I wonder if he could spare me some- he seems to have enough to share.”

            A nearby youth laughed, “Ætheros?  Nah, Captain- he’d very easily burn it all up if he had the chance.”

            The captain smirked, “Is that so?”

 

~

 

            “Aunt Innogen!  Aunt Innogen!” little Kozmotis cried out in happiness, running to the dark-haired maiden with his arms wide open.  Innogen rushed to him, falling to her knees to embrace properly.

           He rubbed his cheek against hers in excitement- they were finally going to play!  He held onto her in a tightly, face scrunched up in happiness.  Why, he wouldn’t let go until Innogen asked a few times, “Alright, Kozzy, you can let go now.” she laughed.  He would shake his head no, “Come now, Kozmotis- you want to start playing, yes?”

            He let go with a jump, nodding with a look of awe, eyes bright with joy.  He looked up to see Invennero jog in with a grin on his face and a hand behind his back.  “Uncle Invennero!  Did you make anything new?” Kozmotis hugged him, stepping back to see the new gadget.

            Invennero shrugged with a sheepish smile, “It’s nothing much- just a music box I made.”  To which everyone drew closer so as to listen to its sound.

            “It’s lovely, Inve.  You really outdid yourself this time.”  Ælysia commended, craning her neck forward to hear.

            As he winded the key, Invennero swore he heard someone running toward them.  The music box clicked in readiness, releasing its precious notes into the air.  The group sighed in bliss as the song came to a finish.  

            _“This is too easy!”_ the youth thought.

            “Hello all!” Ætheros popped out of the grass, arms spread out as if in a spotlight, “Happy to see m- AGH!” he was interrupted by Innogen running into his chest for a tight embrace.

            “You’re finally home, brother!  I’ve missed you so much!” she spoke into his chest, squeezing him lovingly.

            He was short of breath, yet a weak smile worked its way onto his lips.  Chest aching from the impact, he ran his hand through his sister’s hair and patted her back, “I’ve missed you, too, Inno.” He muttered breathlessly, wide eyed.

            Picking herself up, she mumbled a polite “Sorry” and proceeded to help her beloved brother up to his feet.  He rubbed his back with a chuckle, Invennero following suit.  Phoebus pulled him into a short embrace with a few claps on the back.  Ælysia wrapped her arms around him, rubbing his head kindly.  Kozmotis could only wrap himself around Ætheros’ leg- the welcome was greatly welcomed.

            After the heartwarming greetings, Ætheros clapped his hands together and rubbed them in thought, “So! What are we to do today?  Travel into the vast deserts?  Battle sky-pirates and pillage dreamthieves’ hideouts?  Search for lost Stars?”

            Phoebus shook his head, “No, no- we did all that last week.  What else can we do?”

           The group “hmm’d” in thought for a moment, “Ah! I know!” Innogen exclaimed, running over to the horse stables nearby, “We can ride the legendary unicorns and liberate those that have been captured by the black abysses scattered across the Celestials!”

           Ætheros eyes lit up at the idea, “Excellent!  You shall lead us as captain of the expedition!” He jumped over the stable door and saddled onto a horse bareback as Innogen had.  The others followed got their horses ready, yet all paused when they saw a look of hesitance cross Innogen’s face.

           “What’s the matter, Inno?  Haven’t you been the lead adventurer while I was away?”  He asked, brushing golden strands out of his eyes.

           She nodded slowly, “Yes, but I thought it would only be right if you were to take over as captain- like you used to.”

           Ætheros rubbed his head, and sighed, “That’s very kind of you, but I believe it is for the best that you are made leader- your training for adventuring was completed long ago!” he laughed.

           Innogen could only smile at such honest words, yet something told her that he was tired.  From what?  Adventuring?  No, that couldn’t be it- he was an adventurer brave and true.  It could only be from the many stresses of being away so long.  Even Phoebus acted a tad submissive and exhausted when he returned from his journey.

           They rode off, the horses galloping hard against the ground.  The children (for that’s what they all were in heart) lifted their heads into the air and sounded off into the night, their voices being carried with the wind.

           They slashed at the tall grass with their long stick-swords and fought off the enemies of the unicorns; those of harshness and corruption.  They descended into the dark abyss that was the unicorns’ prison, and freed them from the vast emptiness.  They fell to the ground and gazed at the stars in exhaustion, and began to sing old rhymes they heard when they were children.  The two younger ones laughed and listened in rapt interest.

           Kozmotis saw his aunt’s ability as nothing short of amazing.  He often forgot that she was blind and sickly, and refused to believe the latter.  Taking her hand, he yawned, “I love you, auntie.”

           She pulled him into a warm embrace and cupped his face in her hands, “I love you too, little Kozzy.  Sleep now, it’s past your bed time.”  Kissing his forehead, he fell asleep on her stomach, swiftly ascending into utopia.

           It was time for the Pitchiner’s to return home.  Lifting Kozmotis up into his arms, Ælysia hugged Ætheros once more.  Goodbye’s were exchanged, and ended with a group hug and a few laughs.  As they returned to their carriage, Ælysia could have sworn that Phoebus looked much happier than he did before.

           _He was worried for Ætheros,_ said her heart, _the ship had arrived a few hours late.  Brother should have been home earlier._

She looked to the man sitting across from her, young and handsome as he was, he was also vulnerable and worrisome.

           _If history did repeat itself, he would’ve been left a broken man._

_~_

           “Mother and Father have missed him very much.  You should’ve heard them, Inno!  It broke my heart to see tears fall from their face.  Sure, they were happy tears, but it hurt nonetheless.”  Invennero consoled his sister, who prepared to finish her studies.

          “I know, I know.  I’ve missed him too.  I was only worried if they cried too much.  You know how things are, nowadays.” Innogen sighed heavily, closing her jars.

           Invennero knew exactly how things were- After the death of their eldest brother fifteen years ago, his parents aged quicker and quicker.  They were prone to emotional strife (they all were) and incessant worry of Innogen meeting the same fate haunted their thoughts.  And of course there was the fact that the prison of Fearlings and Nightmaremen was over-capacity, and new quests and expeditions being requested on a daily basis.  The Celestial were alive and waiting for no one, and asked much.

           To get his mind off of such depressing thoughts, he turned his attention to his sister’s doings, “So how’s your experiment going so far?”

           Innogen beamed, “Rather well- so far my hypothesis has remained correct.  If one was to be exposed to pure air and water their health would increase in wellness exponentially.  These plants here have grown quite well, despite their previous states.  I’ve also felt quite good.”

           “Amazing.” He looked at the budding plants behind their glass enclosures.  They were totally wilted before Innogen fed them the Æther.  Now they produced healthy, colorful blooms.

           “May I breathe some in?” he asked, crossing his fingers for luck.  The air from the high heavens was absolutely delicious, and the health benefits colossal.  His sister may have found a cure for those ailing with anything- even those as sick as her.

           “I thought you would ask,” she smiled, “Here…” she took a jar from the shelf and opened up the lid quickly.

           It smelled as if rain was approaching, and tasted wonderfully sweet.  But what was that? Invennero crinkled his nose at the little chaos.  Something made the air sickly.  “Inno, there’s- INNOGEN!!” he shouted as his sister crumpled to the floor in a fit of coughing, the jar shattering.  All the commotion called the attention of the guards.

           Innogen pointed to the jar as she spluttered and wheezed, mouthing “Polluted” .

Invennero nodded frantically and tried to lift her up from the ground, and was soon assisted by the guards pouring in.

           Carrying his sister away, Invennero studied the shards as if they were to blame.  “How can the Æther be polluted?” he thought furiously, searching for an answer.

           He saw the last thing he wanted to see, yet there it was, plain and obvious- Innogen was growing sick- the blood on the floor as proof.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YES.  
> Inno now has a younger brother. Ladies and Gentleman- Invennero! As well as a young nephew- the future Nightmare King himself, Kozmotis Pitchiner. Here are the ages  
> (( Phoebus – 28  
> Ælysia – 23  
> Ætheros – 21  
> Innogen – 18  
> Invennero – 13  
> Kozmotis – 3 ))
> 
> If you are actually enjoying this, then ((ADLSKFG I LOVE YOU)).  
> I'm already on dangerous ground for an ENTIRE FAMILY of OC's...  
> Thank you for reading thus far!


	6. Of Purity & Insidious Placebos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Destinies to converge.

Part VI

Of Purity & Insidious Placebos

 

           It writhed and pulsed, lashed out and sucked itself in.  And if he dared to look long enough, he could see a grotesque grin.  The black, cold mass drew closer.  He could only crawl away, but his arms and legs burned from fatigue. 

           The black mass opened its mouth as if to speak, but soon dispersed into the air as if made of ash, broken up by the warm, sweet splendor of light.  It too was without form and slowly, kindly enveloped Invennero in its hold.

           He woke up to Innogen poking his cheek experimentally, whispering “Wake up now, morning star”.  Chuckling, he propped himself up on his shoulder and tugged at her long hair, mumbling “Aren’t you supposed to be in bed?  The entire day?”

           A mischievous light glinted across her eyes, she grinned and ruffled his bed-head, “On a beautiful day such as this?  I’d rather spend it with you than the walls.”

           Invennero sat up, frowning, “You’re _sick_ Innogen.  You’ll get in trouble if Mother and Father find you!”

           She scoffed dramatically, “I feel quite good, _actually_.  And don’t worry!  Old Sir Evanire and Corbel will be keeping watch for us- now come, let’s find the problem with the air.”

           He put on his shoes as if he was weighted down with anchors.  Shrugging into his sleeved shirt and vest, he followed after his sister, questioning the use of the window when there was a perfectly functioning door already.

           Jogging to the tool cottage, Invennero could make out the two guards readying the old glider.  Its white finish glinted in the sun, tarnished by a few scratches on the nose.  As custom, the two rubbed the nose for comfort and blessing, fitting the goggles over their heads.

           “Your satchel, m’lady,” Sir Corbel announced, holding out a brown bag that clinked with glass jars, “I already filled it with jars- sterilized them myself.”

           “Thank you, Sir Corbel.” Innogen bowed her head, slinging the pack onto her chest.  Old Sir Evanire hurried over, silver hair shining in the sunlight and held out his hands, “Your wind gauges, young one- please do be careful in the Æther, the winds can be sly.”

           Innogen nodded, “Yes, sir.  I’ll get home safely.” The two stepped onto the glider and proceeded to tether themselves to the aircraft.  The safety procedures were scrutinized by the two guards and soon the two were ready for take off.

           “Wait!  Please wait!  My Lady!  Young Master!” called out Innogen’s lady-in-waiting, Genevive.

           “What is it, Genevive?”  asked Sir Corbel, who glanced to the doors the maid burst through.

           She panted heavily, smiling, “Oh nothing, Corbel,” she straightened herself, “I just wanted to wish you good luck, Lady Innogen.  May the skies be clear and the winds steady.”

           Innogen smiled and reached out to touch the woman’s cheek- her own way of expressing gratitude.  Genevive leaned into her touch, and closed her eyes in peace.

           “You are so kind, Genevive, thank you for your blessing- I’ll be back before the midday meal…  Step away.” She bid polite farewell, and turned her attention to the glider, whose temporary thruster was now warmed up.

           Taking the maid aside, the guards cleared the way for the young explorers.  After a few gear checks, the maiden found it safe to take to the air.  A quick pull back and pressing of the thrusters propelled them into the air, giving the two a sensation of weightlessness and excitement.  They were launched into the air high enough to catch a light wind.  It was light and feathery, yet Innogen caught onto it and climbed ever upwards with ease.

           The three adults on the ground stood together in awe, watching the two ascend to the soaring cirri.  They noted how the glider looked like a great white bird, and sighed as a breeze graced the stagnant air around them.

           Seeing as it was his duty to be the comic relief, Corbel commented, “One thing I really love about this job- absolutely no one questions the extreme motives of a blind girl.”

           Genevive saw it as her duty to jab the guard in his ribs lightly.  “What?  I’m only saying!” he laughed.  Sir Evanire shook his head at the jests, “Come now, let’s sit and have some tea.”

 

~

 

           _“You must do something!  They’re in danger!”_

_“All is as it should be.  You must calm yourself.”_

_“That poison is to make things better?!  Have you told them about this?”_

_“If we told them, they might try to fight it.  There is no other way to avoid this.  What must be done shall be done!”_

_“It’ll break their hearts if this comes to pass!  Just… please… let me be with them.”_

_…_

_“We shall see.”_

_~_

The air crackled upon their entry.  Taking in a long, deep breath, Innogen could find nothing wrong with the æther and its quality.  Still, it didn’t hurt to bring back samples.  She faced down to her little brother and asked, “Would you pass me a jar, Inve?”

           “Sure,” he chirped, pulling a jar from the bag, “I’ll start collecting samples, too.”  Twisting the lid off, he stretched out his arm and caught a fresh breeze as his sister meandered through the winds.

           They finished just as quickly as they had arrived.  Stuffing the jars into the satchel, Invennero exclaimed, “Done!” excited for the next part of their venture- the descent.

           “Hold on tightly.” Innogen warned, pulling the glider up into the air with a sudden lift assisting them.  They reached the zenith and felt weightless for only a moment, and this always took Invennero’s breath away.  Innogen would flip them to face the ground and give a starting rev of the thruster to allow them some push.

           Wind blasted in their faces and roared in their ears.  The clouds cleared from their view to open up to the capital city.  Just below them stood the castle gardens, filled with green trees and colorful blooms.  They drew ever closer, the air thickening with the weight of life.

           _Hello, old friends.  It has been awhile since we last spoke to each other, yet I must thank you for guiding me through and helping me see.  Would you care to help me land?_

The trees rustled loudly with a great squall, causing the three to cover their teacups for fear of any unwanted debris falling into their tea.  Old Sir Evanire twiddled his graying moustache in thought, and promptly pushed away from the table and rose to his feet.  

           “The little ones have arrived.” he laughed, stretching his old legs and motioning for the other two to come along.

           Sir Corbel looked above him, scanning the trees, “If you say so, old man.”

           Sure enough, the two appeared and had a soft landing.  Genevive was quickly upon them, and checked to see if they were unharmed, which they were.  With a sigh of relief, she primly took their goggles and headed to the shed to put them away.  Sir Corbel took hold of the glider after Innogen had folded it, and hefted it to the cottage where she conducted her experiments.

           “So,” he huffed, “what’s your hypothesis on the pollution?”

           Innogen took out a jar and put it to her ear, “I haven’t a clue on where it comes from.  It’s very faint, but it doesn’t belong there.  I didn’t notice it before, but I believe my constant exposure to it gave me that fit.”

           The wind blew a crisp breath.  Old Sir Evanire squinted his eyes and looked to the mountains, Sir Corbel looking towards them as well.  The mountains were blue this time of day, and held a high mist over them.

           “Perhaps the mountains have the answer.” muttered the young officer as he placed the glider down.

           Sir Evanire laughed, “You have quite the eye, young man.  My Lady, I know I am but a humble guard, but please don’t stress yourself from this project.  You do need your rest, after all.”

           “Yes, of course… The mountains?” Innogen stopped in her tracks, tapping the jar in thought.

 

~

 

           Ætheros flipped through the pages of a dull book.  It went on and on about tactics and strategies of battles long forgotten, that much rather be left to the pages and not dwell in people’s minds.  Yellow and brittle, the young man could do nothing but groan and sigh and grunt at its sheer dreariness.

           “I need something entertaining, else this book will be the death of me!” he thought frustratingly.

           Quite literally tossing the book at the wall, he paced around his room, head running through a great crypt of adventures and expeditions he had thought up in his free time (which was actually all day, everyday).  He huffed out his chest and puffed his cheeks in thought, but couldn’t firmly grasp onto any good idea without it being lost in the torrents of his mind.

           He pouted, and fell on his rump in defeat.  Placing his head on his palm with a frown painted on his face he looked out the window.  The sun was out and bright- surely his little siblings were out flying or conducting fantastical experiments and inventions.  He sighed heavily, for they were most likely busy.

           And all he could do was explore made-up lands.

           _Nonsense.  Get out there and join them.  They won’t mind._ urged his heart

“Noooo.”

           _Come now! It’ll be fun!_

“Nuuuu.”

           _Honestly, Ætheros!_

“Gaaaahhh- AH!” he was driven to the ground by a small little imp, who moved quickly and giggled in its victory.

           Ætheros flailed his arms out and wiggled his legs to and fro, “Who goes there! Come on!  Have at you!”

           “It’s me!” the imp laughed in delight.

           Ætheros squirmed under the imp’s weight, “Come on then, Itsme!  You may have the luck, but I have the pluck now lemme tell you!!” 

           “Honestly, brother!” Ælysia called out from the doorway, “Just how long are you going to keep this up?”

           Sitting himself up and capturing Kozmotis the Imp in his deadly hug, Ætheros snickered, “What?  A man just can’t have fun anymore, is that what you’re saying?  Honestly Ælysia, you call yourself my sister?”

           She bent over and lightly slapped her brother’s shoulder in jest.  After exchanging silly pouts, they hugged each other with grateful smiles.

            Ætheros dusted his pants, asking “So why are you here so early?  Where’s Phoebus?” 

           “Mother and Father called us for a meeting, don’t you remember?  The doctor that requested to treat your sister?  You were invited too, I hope you remember!”

           “Ahhh… yes?”

           Then came the look.  The look of “How-do-you-even-go-about-with-yourself-you-silly-little-boy” look that only Ælysia could pull off.

           The rebuttal?  A shrug paired with a grin.  A grin that said, “You-can-scold-me-all-you-like, you-love-me-anyway”.

           As per norm, it worked.  Give or take an eye roll.

           “Well Kozzy, Inno and Inve are in the garden.  We’ll be done with the meeting soon.” Ætheros ruffled the boy’s hair, and followed his sister out the door.

           Kozmotis smiled as he fixed his hair, and was soon gripped by Ætheros who ran back in to give a few words of wisdom- “The best way to get around is by window.”

           With a wink, Ætheros left for his duties.  Leaving a little Kozzy hoisting himself over the windowsill and out to the garden.

 

~

 

           Even though her eyes were broken, Kozmotis still loved his auntie very much.  She led amazing adventures, told him secrets the Stars told her, was very warm, rode very fast on a horse, gave him hugs and presents made from the garden, and always gave him sweets when his mother wasn’t looking.

           His uncle was always telling him clever things, too.  Like which tools to use to make crafts, how to build little toys and automatons, and identified the many different models of aircrafts.  They built a model ship just recently- it hung just above Kozmotis’ bed in his room.

           Padding through the grass, he peered behind trees and bushes until finally coming across the group under the small glass pavilion.  They were drinking tea and lounged in the green splendor peacefully.  Kozmotis grinned, and ran over to his auntie’s side.

           “Auntie, uncle!” he called out gleefully, lifting himself to sit on the bench and hug his aunt and uncle.  They laughed- he loved their laughs, and so nuzzled his face into Uncle Inve’s chest, hugging even tighter.

           Invennero could only rub the boy’s back as he chuckled, balancing his tea cup to keep it from spilling over.  “Oh look,” he patted Kozzy’s back, “Go hug your Aunt Innogen- she needs more hugs.”

           Kozmotis immediately released him and proceeded in sitting ever closer to Innogen.  He took her hand and began to trace the veins that he could see, and tried to find ingenious shapes in her palm.  The sun was warm, and he had just finished a wonderfully delicious meal.  He yawned, and quickly began to nod off from sleepiness.

           Innogen smiled at his yawn, and placed her cup back onto the table.  Picking the little one up, she placed him on her lap and rested his head on her chest.

           “There you are, little Kozmotis.” she whispered, kissing his forehead lightly.  He made small adjustments, but quickly fell asleep.  The rustling leaves and whispering grass with his auntie’s heartbeat and warmth lulled him into rest.

 

~

 

           “I don’t like this man,” thought Ætheros, “there’s something just so… _off_ about him.”

           The man was sickeningly pale, with a green hue about his complexion.  His mere presence made Ætheros angry.  He didn’t like him. Not one. Single. Bit.

           They had sat down at the front of the dining table, waiting to start the discussion as the man readied himself.

           Once he was done, the man smiled and clasped his hands in a dapper manner.  He began, “It appears everyone in the constellation knows of your daughter’s sickness.  What ails her is what ailed her deceased brother, yes?”

           Although many melancholic emotions were stirring up among the gathered, they nodded.  It hurt them, but they agreed.

           “As you may know, she is also blind.  But she hasn’t shown any signs of ailing.” The Queen added, “Well, despite the recent fit.”

           “Mmm,” the doctor nodded, “do you have any idea as to the cause of the fit?”

           The King cleared his throat, uneasy, “Well, over the years she has been going about outside to take in the air and light.  Ever since then she’s gotten stronger and healthier.”

           “Ahh,” the doctor shook his head disapprovingly, “that’s where the mistake is.” He paused so as to think of what to say next.

           “Your Majesties, your daughter’s condition is very special.  Wasn’t it at the same age that your late son’s cancer set in?  If you’re not careful, your daughter will meet the same fate if allowed to venture outside any longer. I ha-“

           “SEE!” Ætheros slammed his hand onto the table, and chuckled- was he furious! “this man is no doctor!  We all know that pure wind and light cures every ailment!  And yet this man claims it only worsens one’s health?”

           He shook his head slowly, and sad smile on his face, which quickly turned to a grim frown, “And now he suggests to keep her locked up… That sir!” he pointed a finger to the shocked man, “Is what’ll kill her! And anyone else who does the same!”

           “Now young man,” the doctor began calmly, although a tad annoyed at being interrupted, “your sister’s condition is very special as well as delicate.  Anyone with a right mind could only reason that a sickness would arise that went _against_ the usual cures.”

           All the while Ætheros shook his head at such garbage, “So now I don’t have a right mind?” he laughed, amazed from the lies this man told.

           “Now young man!” the doctor shot up from his chair and began to approach Ætheros, “You are-!”

           “ENOUGH!” Ælysia yelled, getting between the two.  She was just as upset as Ætheros was- upset about the same exact things, too.  But she had more sense- her sister needed help.

           Giving a stern, pleading look while fighting back any tears that threatened to spill, Ælysia commanded, “Let us listen to what the doctor has to say.”

           Ætheros clenched his jaw, tensing at such a suggestion.  Ælysia took hold of his arm and led him back to his seat, sitting next to him yet never letting go of his arm.

           “Continue, doctor.” Mathius grunted, glancing at the table to hide his stress.

           The doctor cleared his throat and straightened his collar, “Very well.  As I was saying, I have a medicine that’ll suppress your daughter’s sickness.  However, I must add that there is no cure, and unfortunately your daughter _will_ pass away at a young age.  If she takes the medicine on a daily basis, she will live another ten years at the norm.”

           Elysium stood up at this, eyes filled with dangerous anger, “Now, I assure you doctor, my daughter will absolutely _not_ pass on at a young age.  Have you not heard of hope and belief?  I suppose not, seeing as you are such a grim old fellow.  I am taking my leave- goodnight children. Doctor.” she spat out the latter.

           “Goodnight mother.” They muttered.  The doctor looked down in embarrassment briefly, yet regained his composure.

           Ætheros added bitingly, “Suppress the sickness?  Are you sure you don’t mean suppress her freedom?”

           Ælysia slapped his arm.  Ignoring them, the doctor turned to the King, “Your Majesty,” Mathius looked up from his thoughts, “I know it pains you so to hear my diagnosis, but please hear me- your daughter will live much longer if she takes this medicine!”

           Mathius looked at the doctor, then faded away back into his thoughts.  He lost his beloved son, whom he thought no harm would come to.  One day he was strong and happy- aglow with health.  The next- pale and weak, unable to breathe properly.  He didn’t want to picture his precious daughter on her bed with blood dripping from the corner of her mouth, dead before saying goodbye.

           “We have no other choice.” Mathius’ voiced wavered shakily, eyes reddening from tears.  The doctor nodded, and muttered, “Very well.”

           Ætheros pushed away from the table violently and stormed out of the room, not looking back to those he thought truly cared for their sister and daughter.  Ælysia turned to Phoebus and exchanged a look of concern.  The two quickly rose from their seats and trailed after Ætheros, calling him.

           Though Mathius wasn’t through yet, “Ælysia,” he called, she turned to him, “please call Innogen in, would you child?”

           Her eyes shifted from him to the doctor, nodding slowly before she hurried out after Ætheros.

 

~

 

           Phoebus had already caught up to him in the garden, speaking with him rather loudly.

           “NO!” lashed out Ætheros, “Of course you wouldn’t understand because you’ve never lost _anyone_!  Inn-“

           “Now you listen to me!!” growled Phoebus, who grabbed the youth by the collar of his dress shirt, “Don’t tell me I’ve never lost anyone WHEN I CLEARLY HAVE!!!”  Ætheros shook his head in denial, tears falling from his scrunched up face.

           “Your brother was my friend, my _only_ frien- LISTEN TO ME” his voice quivered, hands shaking with emotion, “You say I haven’t lost anything, but you’re wrong,” tears flooded from his eyes, “You’re _wrong._ ” He croaked, and set the boy down.

           “I loved your brother very much, as we all did.  But it will do your sister no good if we don’t _try._   Do you understand?”

           Ætheros clenched his fists and shook his head, “But she’s not sick!  You can see that, Phoebus! She’s perfectly fin-“

           “DO YOU CALL COUGHING UP BLOOD PERFECTLY FINE?!” Phoebus yelled, voice echoing through the grounds, “Do you?!!”

         The youth was breathing erratically, frantically, yet the general approached him, “ANSWER ME, DAMN IT!”

           “ENOUGH!” Ælysia grabbed at her husband’s shoulder and pulled him back to face her.  She grabbed her brother’s shoulder and whispered coarsely, loudly, “ _Do you not realize that you’ve been fighting in front of them.”_

They turned round to see the two guards staring at them in shock.  Invennero was clasping his ears as he hid behind the maid, breathing heavily.  All the while Kozmotis sobbed quietly into his auntie’s chest, scared from the fighting.  Innogen looked upon them with her haunting, silver eyes, frowning, chest heaving deeply so as to keep herself calm.

           Ælysia broke away from the two and approached the children to whisper words of comfort, “You are needed in the dining hall, Innogen- go now.”

           Innogen could only nod, and give the child back to its mother.  “There, there, my little Kozmotis,” she whispered, “it’s time for you to go home with your mommy.”

           The boy could only nod slowly, face filled with dripping sadness and confusion.  He hiccupped as he let his mother take him away.

           The wind picked up as everyone departed for their quarters, yet the two guards accompanied the maiden as ordered.  The wind began to moan and howl, and pull on their clothes, the trees roared and swayed violently, which only hurried the guards along.  Yet Innogen felt a cold feeling rise in her stomach- nervousness? Or fear?

           The hall echoed with their footsteps, which helped Innogen make out two figures at the end of the hall, seated.  Her father rose from his seat- the doctor not too long after- and greeted them.

           “As you may know this is my daughter Innogen.  Innogen, this is Doctor Malnum, the man who will be treating you from this day forward.”

           Innogen blinked in astonishment, not quite sure what to say.  Noticing this, her father sat her down, and clasped her shoulders.

           “Innogen,” he began, “that coughing attack the other day worried the entire kingdom.  We are all scared for your health, now this man says he has a medicine that’ll help suppress your sickness, but you have to listen to what we have to say, alright?”

           She nodded, eyes still wide, yet seeing nothing.

           The doctor stepped forward, “Although your health is extraordinary, your cancer will eat at you if not treated.  As necessary, you are restricted to go outside, for the sunlight accelerates your sickness exponentially.  You are to have nothing but bed rest for the first few months-“

           “Months?” she asked, face falling.

           “Ah, yes, as it is necessary.  But soon you will be able to walk around the castle as you please.”

           “When can I go outside?” she asked hopefully, not caring how long she may have to wait.

           The doctor chuckled, “Ideally the outside is to be avoided at all costs, Your Majesty.  It’s the only way that you can live longer than expected.”

           “But,” she began, “I must go outside!  What about in the evenings?”

           “Not even then, Your Highness- the temperature will drop much too radically for you to handle.”

           “But what if I don’t feel sick at all?  I feel fine, honestly!”

           “So did your brother.” Mathius added gravely; face unreadable, “You are to begin treatment tonight.”

           To this doctor spoke out, “I must warn you that it’ll be painful to administer, and at first the medicine will make you feel sick, but you will eventually get used to it.”

           “The guards will watch over the procedure; Good night. Oh, and Sir Corbel, please escort Dr. Malnum to the gate when he has finished.”

           “Yes, Your Highness.” Corbel bowed, and proceeded to lead the group to Innogen’s chambers.

 

~

 

           The four walked steadily down the corridor, not exchanging a glance or word.  The wind howled as a storm brewed on the outside, wailing, calling.

           “So, eh, how is it that you are going to administer this medicine to m’lady?” Old Sir Evanire asked partly out of curiosity, partly to break the silence.

           “It must be injected quickly and rather painfully, I’m afraid,” to which he turned to the maiden, “please forgive my harm, Your Majesty.”

           “Oh, it’s quite alright,” Innogen smiled weakly, “it’s not your fault that it has to be painful.”

           Genevive opened the doors to the bedroom, where candlelight cast shadows of elongated figures against the walls, playfully dancing in the light.  The three servants stood watch at the door as the doctor took out the only piece of equipment needed- a thick syringe filled with a ghastly looking substance.

           “Please lie down, Your Majesty, so you can be comfortable.” 

           Innogen did so, a tad uneasy at the strangeness of the procedure- wouldn’t it be injected in her arm?  She regained her composure as she lay there, waiting for the next order.

           “Ah, if you’ll excuse me, Your Majesty,” he began lifting up her shirt, “But in order for you to be treated, it must be injected here.”

           A cold swab of astringent rubbed over her abdomen briefly.  She couldn’t help but shiver, just as Sir Corbel couldn’t help but clench his spear.

           “Goodnight, My Lady.” said the doctor solidly.

           “Goodni- AGH!” she yelped as the doctor injected the thick needle forcefully.

           The darkness lashed out, yet the Stars bellowed, and fought back with their warmth and radiance.  Scorching, hungry cold bit at her stomach, and spread out slowly.  Her insides felt like they were on fire and falling apart, and the darkness snarled.  Her thoughts scattered and were overcome with fever, and her mouth couldn’t move, much less the rest of her.  A darkness that she was never acquainted with laughed wickedly, coldly, as she spiraled into loneliness. 

           The Stars cried out and Nihilism cackled.

 

_White is the purifier- it is absence of color, or is it presence of light?_

_The stars, hearts, and eyes of all are guided by its clarity of blinding truth, and for that many are thankful for it._

_But who can see when blinded?  Many misuse its purpose of life._

_Black is the misunderstood- always associated with the insidious habit of shrouding mysteries._

_Many fear it because of what it might hold, yet it holds the stars in its vastness, and envelopes children in their mother’s womb._

_Even the Stars are thankful for its gentle presence, and so it is given the duty of death._

_Yet both can blind, as well as hide._

_Light and Shadow_

_Purifier and Keeper_

_To forever exist_

_As both one and the other_


	7. Enter the Phoenix

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ashes to ashes, the glass has finally broken. They are free.

Part VII

Enter the Phoenix

 

           Crumpled in a heap on her bed from writhing in pain, Innogen focused on her memories to try and dull her senses.  Though the memories and thoughts she recalled hurt her heart, she continued to dwell on them.

           It was only a few weeks ago that she began treatment- that was one of the most terrible days of her life.  The medicine was excruciatingly painful as it coursed through her veins that night, and when she awoke in the morning from fitful sleep she couldn’t quite stand up.  She vomited bile from her empty stomach throughout the rest of the morning, and slept the rest of the day, until the doctor came back, of course.

           She was no longer able to walk, much less stand.  Adventuring stopped, as did the nightly visitation from the Stars.  She hardly ate or drank anything, and didn’t speak for fear of being sick.  Her family was by her side constantly (all except her mother), and could only hope for her betterment.

           Nothing’s changed.

           No tolerance had been built.

           She was growing weaker.

           And the darkness was cruel.

           It wasn’t the darkness she had known for so long- this one was brutal in its nature, and cold, as if it didn’t have a heart.  The kind void she had stared into for so long was overrun by this monster- it called itself Nihil.

           Nihil would constantly whisper and yell and rant about how everything is nothing, and nothing is everything.  “ _The world outside of you doesn’t exist”,_ it would hiss in finality, _“Not even you.”_

Being as hopeful and sane as she was, she would be terribly distraught at its claims.  All she could do was stand firm in her only answer after all its monologue, “It does exist, as do I.”

           But she would be deafened by its yelling and chanting, her answer lost in the void as she was.

           _“Not even you.”_

_“Not even you.”_

_“Not even you.”_

Then she would wake up.

 

           The nightmare only occurred while she was under the medicine’s spell- as if sensing the corruption it harbored, her body would purge itself, and soon demand pure rest.  So she slept, with the Stars whispering comforts and singing lullabies softly.  Ætheros was not far off, either.  He took it upon himself to watch over his sister as night passed, for comfort.  Whether it was for Innogen or himself, he wasn’t certain.  The guards would not be far off, and had to constantly explain to the young master of what the doctor said was “Only natural.”

           He highly doubted that.

           Once Innogen woke up, he would assist the maid in the daily cleansing and purging.  After that, he would eat something sparse and retire to his quarters to rest.  Or to at least _attempt_ rest- he was plagued by thoughts of hatred and desecration, and so saw it proper to distract himself by the pain of labor.

           For hours until utterly exhausted he would practice his swordsmanship and sparring, angry at everything.  Both Ælysia and Phoebus would beg him to rest and take a break from watching after Innogen, but he would only ignore them, eyes lost in a world of confusion.  He wouldn’t hear it- that his sister was sick, that she was to be hidden from the world, unable to live, and that- somewhere- his eldest brother’s words were not heeded.

           Invennero would run.  

           He would run as fast as he could, covering his ears and averting his eyes, running blindly forward.  His safe haven was no longer near his sister, nor his brother, nor anyone else.  His sanctuary was the small cottage where Innogen’s experiments and his tinkers were- sitting there without any emotion or emotions to give.

           He excelled in school, like his siblings have before him, yet the children would point and jab at him, teasing him for his strange habit of creating and concentration.  He would tell his parents, or his siblings, but he fears that it would only make matters worse and grimmer than need be.  So he remained silent, creating objects that took hold of his dreams, whimsical little things.  Things that couldn’t cause him any harm or emotional turmoil.

           That’s not to say he didn’t talk about it- he would often visit his sister and do small kindnesses for comfort.  He would bring her flowers and place them on her pillow and nightstand (where did they go?).  Brush her hair until it was silky and soft, tuck her in and straighten her sheets, and hugged her for hours at a time.

           Yet some days- when the world pressed on him from all sides- he would just fall apart on her bedside, and weep himself to sleep.  He was tired- they all were- of the emptiness of it all.

           On these days, Phoebus would take the small boy into his arms, Ælysia not far behind, and place him in his bed.  He was always so gentle with him and careful to not wake him from his much deserved rest.  Looking into the young boy’s face, he could see the family resemblance, the pain, the hope, and himself.  It was on days like this where he could do nothing but take up both his son and his wife into his arms and hold them, shielding them from the harshness of it all.

           Neither Ælysia nor himself could bring themselves to admitting it, or even accept it as a truth, if it was.  Was their beloved sister dying?  Was what they dismissed for so long finally come?  Of course they would avoid the answer, for fear of perpetual wretchedness.  Was this selfish?  Ælysia could only laugh bitterly- of course it was.

           Mathius lost the sparkle in his eyes.  He, the King of the Constellation Lïtæm- the brightest of the Celestials- had his spirit dulled and tainted with worry and sadness.  As we all know, a sad King means a sad kingdom.  His wife Elysium had suddenly become mute, and took leave to her bed.  Beside his wife, he would cry silently- his loved ones were dying!  Dying of broken hearts and shattered spirits and lost hopes and crushed dreams.

           Little Kozmotis could only imagine why everyone was so blue.  He continued to explore and adventure and stargaze.  Even though his auntie was asleep, he would sing her the songs he learned and the lessons he was taught that day.  He would decorate her hair with the flowers that were left there and admire how peaceful she looked, stroking her hair and cheeks lovingly, just like she used to for him.

           Everyday he would visit her and laugh as if she was awake. Sometimes, he would lie next to her and take small naps, and could only dream that she would one day wake up and smile at him.  She would take him into her warm embrace and emerge out of her room to the shining sun or glowing moon, and play until the stars fell and visited.  _‘Soon,’_ his heart would say, _‘she will wake up and laugh again.’_

The Stars looked down upon them, waiting.  Only they knew what the family had yet to face.  They took solace in their dreams and wishes- small but fleeting, yes, but it was their only means of keeping the family above the maelstrom. What was to come would decide the future safety of the Celestials and all who inhabit them.

           The doctor spread his toxins.  He could have laughed at such naivety these people harbored.  Why, the whole constellation seemed to be deluded by such simplicity! _Pure_ this and _pure_ that… why, he couldn’t help but humor them.  The medicine was a pure element from the mountains- he stumbled upon them in the regions high above the clouds, and has been mining it since.  Of course once these hidden reserves are found a pocket of noxious gas is released, but other than that the substance should perform uniformly.  He has studied this substance for ages, and so far those who have been treated have definitely lived a prolonged life.  Yet the consequences were grim- whoever begins treatment is to continue.  If one was to stop, the patient’s innards were to wither, regardless if they begin to take up the medicine again.  If overdosed, fever will surely take them.

           _‘Here’s to your bloody purity and hope,’_ he would think angrily towards the two critics of the family, brushing away the filthy weeds they placed on her pillows, _‘We all perish in the end, and there’s no hope there.  Death will always prevail- darkness to darkness and dust to dust.’_ His heart was hardened with years upon years of these thoughts- his childhood wasn’t the most happiest, especially with all sorts of darkness running around back in those days.  He grew up scared and alone, hardened by trials and hardships.

           And they still lived in his heart.

           It came to be that one night as the doctor came to treat his sister that Ætheros saw it fit to bury the hatchet.  It would do no good for him to be angry at the world while everyone around him clearly suffered as much as he.  Also, he was getting tired of that bitter taste in his mouth from all the anger he was feeling.  To remedy this, he believed it right to apologize- a good leader wouldn’t dare to hold a grudge, after all!  As future King of Lïtæm, it was his duty to be of forgiving disposition- even if the Doctor was quite the negative fellow.

           Opening the door with the syringe at the ready, the Doctor was taken aback to find the young man already there, expecting him.  He closed the door and cleared his throat- a nervous habit of his, “What brings the young Master here, tonight, eh?”

           Getting up from one of the many untouched cushioned chairs, Ætheros nodded awkwardly, “I’ve come to apologize.  My behavior the other day was most unbecoming- I believe it was due to pigheadedness and fear.  Either way, I hope you forgive me.”

           The doctor blinked.  Well, this was a surprise!  A member of the royal family apologizing to a humble peasant such as himself? What an honor- he would be sure to document this later on, if he actually cared enough to remember.  Still, the boy did mean well and actually meant him kindness- not something that often came his way.  

           The boy continued, “If I may administer the medicine to her myself, you would be able to go back home early and rest.  No doubt that you live a ways off and your work tires you.”

           Now this was tempting.  He visits many of his clients on a daily basis, scattered throughout the lands, each with their own ailment.  Many lived beyond the mountains in the deserts, while a few lived here by the coast.  And of course let us not forget those on the planet’s moon.  A few extra minutes of rest sounded wonderful.

           “Well,” he huffed, “you _do_ know how to administer this, yes?”

           Ætheros’ smile grew bright as he nodded, walking over a few discarded pillows.

           “Then I see no point in staying.  Thank you, young Master.  Have a good night.”  He opened the doors and left, hearing the boy exclaim, “And a good night to you, too, doctor!”

           Syringe in hand, Ætheros turned to his sleeping sister.  The guards peeked through the doors and whispered, “M’Lord, are you still in there?”

           Ætheros looked at the ghastly stuff, beckoning them forward, “Yes, yes please come in.”

           The guards quietly tip-toed over to Ætheros’ side and gazed into the syringe’s contents- how awful it looked!  A sickly green and metallic-like, how was this to cure Innogen?  

           “By the Stars, what sort of witch’s brew is it?  Nothin’ but evil, it is.”  Sir Corbel shook his head disapprovingly, face pinched in disgust.

           Old Sir Evanire looked at the syringe, old eyes calculating, thinking.  Ætheros stepped towards his sister, and sighed.  The elder took his shoulder and shook his head, “I’ve been sickly before, young Master, but never did I need the assistance of such a wicked looking remedy.”

           Ætheros looked at Innogen, who slept peacefully from exhaustion.  Free from the medicine’s ravenous effects, the Stars finally graced her mind, free from the monster that arrived only when the toxin was spreading through her veins.  How could he interrupt such tranquility?

           No, she will rest.  A few hours of needed rest and activity will not kill her.  It was only right that she return to them for at least a day.  No harm done to anyone.  Smiling warmly, he turned to Corbel and handed him the syringe.

           “Please take care to dispose of this.  Make sure no one finds it, for their safety.”

           Corbel grinned, “Right away, sir.”

           “Also, see to it that you go to your wife right away.  It’s time.” 

           He didn’t need to be told twice- with a look of sheer joyous shock, Corbel ran down the halls at amazing speed, throwing the syringe into a trash bin while whooping and hollering down the palace corridors, “I’M A FATHER! I’M A FATHER!”

 

~

 

           _Today is the day…_

_Why, yes.  It appears so._

_Must I watch?_

_If you wish to return, then yes, you must._

_…The glass is about to break, isn’t it?_

_Yes, it most certainly will._

_~_

Satin.  That’s what the air felt like- soft satin.  It filled her lungs lovingly as the earth greeted her with salutations from the trees and rustling grass.  Who missed her more than the light, which kissed her skin with its warm rays?

           Her family, that’s who- Ætheros told his loved ones of Innogen’s much needed revival, and so took charge of preparations.  He literally ran to the Pitchiner residence and jumped atop little Kozmotis’ bed.  The two did the same with Kozzy’s parents, who were at first rather grumpy by such a rude awakening.  Of course they jumped out of bed when the fumbling resided and took it upon themselves to think up of adventures they may wish to partake in, and to postpone any audiences they were to have.

           Why, even the Queen herself had danced in celebration.  Oh, how she hated the treatment her daughter had to take!  She had immediately went to her closets and to choose a lovely summer dress to wear.  The King could only laugh and thank the heavens.  They all had trouble going back to sleep, and decided to keep it a surprise from little Invennero.

           Said son had rolled his eyes and laughed.  He had heard the ruckus from his room!  His family was never good at subtle, unfortunately for them.  He only hoped that the next day never ends.  He so desperately wanted his sister to stay like she used to- happy and free, forever.  With a prayer to the Celestials, he fell into a dream world of fat, honey-colored clouds and silver birds.  They all flew- even Sir Evanire and Corbel and Genevive- towards the setting sun, which sang to them as they laughed.

           The Stars had heard his prayer.  As he made his way down to the garden, he could’ve sworn the day was beautiful for them.  Just there stood Innogen, who reached out as if to touch the sun, her smile glowing, legs shaking from disuse.  He ran into her and hugged her tightly to support her, only to almost throw her off balance.  Soon the entire family emerged from the palace and assembled into a great hug, only to be toppled over onto the grass by a very loving Queen.  

           And they laughed.  Their laughs rang throughout the garden and floated away to that faraway place where all breaths go- past the mountains, the deserts, and the forests.  They were carried upon wings and winds, taken to that place that was forever frozen in time, untouched.

           They saddled their horses and took to the fields, where they rode and frolicked for hours upon hours.  They ran, they danced, and they flew.  The four pilots of the group took to the skies with their loved ones, and it was just like Invennero had dreamed.  As the marmalade sun colored the clouds fuchsia and salmon and set the clouds ablaze with gold, the Stars could only enjoy what fleeting bliss was left for the family.

           They approached the ground with ease, the grass parting from the wind they created.  Yet something caught little Kozmotis’ eye- it shined as bright as a star from his aunt’s breast as they boarded off the gliders.  “What’s this aunt Innogen?” he took the locket into his hands, running his fingers over the delicate engravings.

           She looked to him, eyes shining brighter than he’s ever seen, _Her eyes look like they have the same engravings,_ he thought.  The light brought out the intricate etchings in her eyes, so he could only wonder who could’ve crafted such a beautiful piece of art yet have enough time to stare into her eyes.

           She smiled warmly, taking him into her arms as they walked back to the gardens to adventure, “A very special person gave that to me- your uncle James.” Kozmotis nodded- he knew about his late uncle, and all the good things he had done.  It was who made his father unhappy every so often from memories, the one who made is aunt, well, his aunt.  He desperately wished he was alive today.

           Innogen took in the silence, smiling all the way through.  Best to cherish memories than to mourn them!  Using her free hand, she took the locket and slung it over Kozmotis’ head, enjoying the small gasp of surprise.

           “B-but auntie!  This is yours!  Uncle James gave it to you, I can’t wear it!  It belongs on you!” he protested like a child should, shaking his head, eyes wide.

           “I know, I know,” her laugh sounded like a wind chime, “I want you to wear it for the meanwhile.  Uncle James loves you too, I hope you know!”  She nuzzled his cheek playfully, attacking him with kisses.

           Kozmotis smiled, “I know, auntie.  Thank you.”  

           “Oi!  Come on, you two!  The adventuring starts now!”  Ætheros appeared behind them, pushing them towards the group.  He leaned into them, whispering, “I can see where we get our imagination from!  Mother is a complete swashbuckler!- Alright!!”  he shouted, clapping his hands together, “Let us outrun the Dreamthieves and take their plunder before the sun falls!”

 

~

 

           It cackled through itself, tightening its grip on its pawn.  _So touchy,_ Nihil growled, _you were once so difficult to manipulate, yet I suppose absence **does** make the heart grow fonder._

_A little angrier… Oh, no no- ahh, there we go.  Perfect.  Now go and destroy._

~

 

           They had a magnificent dinner of vegetables, fruits, and nuts.  Rather simple, yes, but filling.  The exchange afterwards was overflowing with hilarity and mirth.  There was not a moment when there wasn’t a face painted red from laughter, or a smile, or silly cooing from Ætheros, who caused most of the laughter with his antics.  

           It was in the middle of all this joyous fun that Innogen remembered the gifts she had made before her treatment began.  Excusing herself from the table, she ambled down the corridors and soon made it to her room. 

           She fumbled around the room for a good few minutes, noting that she should really pick up after herself.  She tripped over the leg of a chair, hugged the wall a few times, and eventually found herself at her dresser.  Upon it lay eleven scrupulously made wreaths of flowers.  She frowned, picking up the small wreath, _Who was this fo-…_

           The child.

           Genevive was to give birth to Sir Corbel’s child.

           Surely, she must be done by now!  Gathering the wreaths into her arms with a laugh, she jumped over the cushions and through her door.  She could feel excitement bubbling through her until she ran into someone.

           “Oh!  I am genuinely sorry! Please, forgi-…”

           The searing cold erupted from her stomach.  The raspy voice yelled and screeched, welcoming her back.

           She could feel the flower petals from the wreaths falling away, through her fingers.  They were soft, comforting. 

           Then they burned, Innogen herself being swallowed by unforgiving embers and guffaws.

 

~

 

           _Now what is that girl up to?_ Ætheros thought. Rising from his seat, he peered through the window.

           He cried out, startling his family, and threw open the door.

           “FIRE! FIRE!  THERE’S A FIRE!” is what the entire palace was screaming as they rushed to the inferno.

 

           She remembers Sir Evanire carrying her out of the blaze, how her brother yelled to her as he flung bucketful after bucketful of water.  How her family caressed and comforted her as the flames grew wilder.

           She remembered Invennero.

           He had left the table not long after her to see if she needed any help.  He was still in the building.

           She found her strength somehow, and tore away from her mother’s arms.  As her family screamed for her to come back, though she swore she could hear someone whispering _Go._

           Blood rushed through her as she ran into the castle.  Smoke filled her lungs and stung her eyes, and fire bit at her from every corner she turned.  Pillars buckled and tapestries fluttered.  Metal scorched her hands as she forced herself into a room by ripping apart a door, and soon faint coughing reached her ears.

           She threw the metal bar away and fell onto her knees, scooping her brother into her arms.  In reply, he spluttered and choked, rasping out small sounds that held so much meaning.

           _I’m scared._

Innogen ran to the entrance she came from, only to be met with roaring flames.

           _I can’t see anymore._

She pounded against the walls, and soon began to throw her shoulder into them.

           _I can hear brother._

She fell to the ground, coughing up blood and bile.  Her limbs shook from exhaustion and medication.

           _Let us rest,_ she thought finally.

           Declaring over the roaring jeers and flames, the Stars commanded.

 

_We give you light and unbreakable volition._

_Eternal Keepers no longer collapse._

_Destiny has now become yours._

_“Begin”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really do hope I'm not confusing anyone.


	8. Whole Made of Fragments ~Sights~

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The balance is broken.  
> Or, The General's last moments before his shadow-clone takes hold.

Part VIII

Whole Made of Fragments

~

Sights

 

            "That's impossible!" They cried out, "Everyone knows that a duck can't turn into a swan! That's just a myth!"

            With that they swam away from the little duckling, who held her head low- Those ducklings were always so mean! She could only wonder why they visited so often... Probably because they had nothing to do.

            The sky rumbled. She took a glance upwards to be greeted by a fat drop of rain. Paddling through the lake to where her family waited, she took cover just as soon as the rain began to pour.

            Her brother caught her in his wings, telling her that is was alright to stop swimming. Seeing as she was cold, the family huddled around- including her duckling brothers and sister.

            The storm boiled on, bringing gales and sheets of rain. It took them awhile, but they slept peacefully. All except for the younger two, who huddled and shivered. Seeing that they would never get any sleep, the eldest brother took them under his wings and began to tell them the story of the duckling who never was a duckling.

            Now, the eldest brother stood out from the family. What should've been a plain orange bill was one topped with an exquisite black bridge. Instead of being small and gangly in stature, he was grand and graceful. Her brother was very handsome, while she had dull, gray feathers and a black beak- not pretty at all. Her other brothers and sister were a bright yellow and had brilliant orange bills, yet she looked nothing like her family.

            This is what usually runs through her mind while her brother told the story. In the end, she would always ask "Is the not-duckling still here? In this lake?"

            He would only smile, "Maybe, now stay close to me, both of you." They would fall asleep underneath their brother's great wings, where it was soft and warm.

            The little duckling had dreams of great warmth, and woke up a tad sick the next day. While her eldest brother visited the pond nearby, she swam this way and that in the lake, diving so as to obtain the sweet, juicy leaves at its bottom. She dabbled and played this way and that, enjoying the cool water and warm sun. This enjoyment was transient, lasting until sunset. As she emerged from the lake she heard a great amount of flapping in the skies. Then, all was quiet.

            ...

            Two great blasts shattered the silence, and even more birds flew away.

She was frightened. Quickly, she waddled under a lifting tree root and tucked herself away in its corner, shuddering from the great blasts that still resounded throughout her tiny frame.

            Her family found her as soon as it turned dark, yet her brother still hadn’t come back yet.  Maybe he was gathering new stories to tell, or finding more roots or leaves to eat.  As they waddled to a safer home ethereal lights began to rise from the ground and into the air. 

            The fireflies were awake.

            They meandered lazily about, whispering soft hellos as they did so.  Taking shelter underneath a small wooden workbench jutting out from tool shed, they began to drift off to sleep.  The grey duckling would’ve rested peacefully, if she hadn’t been hearing frantic whispers now and then.  Poking her head out from underneath her father’s wing, she craned her neck to hear the sounds better.

            The duckling waddled over to where she heard the small cry, which was a little ways off from where they slept, on top of the bench.

            It was a jar full of fireflies, whose lights were flickering in haste. They flew this way and that, yet couldn't seem to find a way out. The one who cried out noticed the duckling's presence, and so began her cries again.

            "Please help us get out! We don't do very well in small places, and if we're not freed soon, we will all die! Can you help us, little grey duck?"

            The duckling smiled and nodded, "Of course," she said, flapping her wings to be next to them, "I'll help. Do you do well with heights?"

            The firefly could've laughed, "Why yes, of course we fare well with heights! Why do you ask?"

            The duckling waddled behind the jar and gave it a testing nudge, "Maybe a gentle push over the edge will help free you and your family. Would you mind if I try and break the jar?"

            "Not at all!" The firefly buzzed excitedly, her family joining in. They shined brighter and brighter as the duckling pushed the jar closer and closer to the bench's edge. Though her delicate neck was sore from pushing, the duckling was determined to free the family of fireflies. With a great thrust of her body, the jar tipped over and landed onto the floor with a shatter. A few moments later, the fireflies rose from their prison, glad to be free.

            "Because of you, we get to live- we must thank you somehow... Are you hypnotized by our lights?" The firefly asked, noticing that the duckling looked on with big, far-off eyes.

            The duckling chuckled, "Oh, no. I cannot see your lights- I am blind, therefore ugly. I wish with all of my small heart that I could, but it seems my wish will never be granted."

            The fireflies were silent for a moment, then began to erupt into dazzling lights that surrounded the cygnet, “You are not ugly, you have a beautiful heart. From now on you are no longer a duckling, but a Phoenix. Though your heart may die at times, it will be reborn from the ashes of its past life. Now, go and share your light."

            Wake up.

            Ashes choked the air and dyed the sky a dark grey.  The ground was charred, and their hands stained black.  He stood at the base of the destruction, raven hair disheveled, clothes and face dirty.  Tears streaked everyone’s face, yet he couldn’t help but rub them away angrily.  They coughed and moaned, he sulked, his face contorting into weeping once again.  He clutched at the silver locket tightly, pressing it to his little heart.

            Wake _up._

            The blossoms fell to the earth and scattered on the breeze, filling the world with their sweet smell.  As lovely music lilted through the air as farewell, he still clenched the trinket to his heart.  The empty coffins offered no ease, no solace.  As tears continued to spill, the faraway place seemed to crumble and slowly disintegrate to nothingness, forever lost.

            _Wake up._

It was dark.  He felt dirty, as if covered in soot, and suffocated.  Then air filled his lungs, and he could feel himself come to life again.  His eyes opened, yet no light came.  He heard thousands upon thousands of voices fill his mind, overwhelming his senses.  A warmth began to bubble in him, and soon erupted into heat.  He felt energy course through his veins and fill him in, awakening his senses.  He couldn’t see, yet he knew what was around him.

            _Welcome back, we have missed you._

He ripped himself around this way and that, searching for the source of the voices.

            _You are the Phoenix, and our Guardian.  We, the Celestials, have chosen you to rule and guard our light with yours.  Innocence is the light you hold; please harbor us in your heart.  Purify those souls who need your warmth.  Wake up and shine._

           Wake up.

           The Stars burned brighter.

           Wake up.

           Singing flowed through the skies.

           _Wake up!_

And so Kozmotis would shoot up from his bed, breathing heavily, heart pounding, cold from sweating.  

           He glanced around the room, pulling at his face, unsure if he truly existed or not.  He looked at his hands, shaking from the apprehension of such extreme visions, and threw the sheets off of himself, checking to see if the rest of him was there.  And then he would clutch at his locket, tarnished yet beautiful with its age.  It was one of two things he held dear to his heart, and he saw no point in getting rid of it… It would destroy him if he did.  Chest bare, he stalked to the balcony and emerged into the freezing night air.  He gulped down the air as if he really had been suffocating and ran his hands through his hair.  Then he began to weep bitterly, muttering and crying out softly.

           Why did he dream of such things?  Some were memories he wished he never had, and the others were not his.  He absolutely knew they were not his.  As he padded down the hall, his thoughts would crash and implode, becoming numb as he opened the door to his little daughter’s room.  Wiping his tears away, he got to his knees and stared into his daughter’s peaceful face.

           Sometimes she would wake up, but she usually dreamed away.  So he would kneel there, stroking her soft black hair until slumber called to him.  If he was too tired, he would sleep there until morning, awakened by his little girl placing her many dolls around him- to keep him company.

           “My angel!” he would laugh, scooping her into his arms, “My Seraphina.”

           These dreams even visited him on his long journeys away from her, on duty.  It was times like these where he would be his “usual” gruff, fierce self- according to his subordinates.  Strict, grave, and weathered, he was one of the best generals the Golden Age had ever seen.  Yet he was crippled by these vivid dreams of memory and mystery.

           As he returned to bed, he thought bitterly of what was to come tomorrow.  Another voyage was to be had; once again, duty called.  He was to be separated from his precious daughter, and for what- a horde of moaning shades that flitted about uselessly in their own scum?  Utter nonsense!

           He fell asleep with a frown on his face that could’ve been confused for a scowl.

 

           _My my, why are you always so… rough?  You were terribly sweet once… and cute.  What happened to that precious boy?  What happened to my Kozmotis?_

_He grew up, don’t you remember?_

_That’s not a good excuse…_

She rose with the sun.  Tucking her doll under her arm, she bobbled down the hall, footsteps echoing quietly against the marble.  She liked how it sounded.  Sometimes she could even hear singing from long ago if she was _really_ quiet.  The songs sounded like beautiful gibberish… but it grew sadder and older as she neared her father’s chamber… She could only wonder why.  One of the many mysteries she could solve in the palace!

           Now, Seraphina loved a good mystery.  They kept her busy while her father was away, and her great uncle always helped whenever he could.  Her father told her stories about his adventures when he was a child, and the many stories he had gathered since then.  Using such lore, she turned the pages of the palace back to when there were many souls converging to one.  Everything seemed… detached.  Yet something in her heart told her that fragments still remained.

           These fragments were stronger near her father’s bedroom.  Opening the door ever so slightly, she crawled on her knees for maximum stealth, while the earth, wind, and light were ever brighter.  This place was special… it held a story.  

           And she was determined to discover its story today, with her daddy.

           Climbing up on his cushy bed, her golden eyes caught sight of a great sleeping mass at the other end, rising and falling.  Sheets rustling silently, she slowly, slowly crawled to where his head rested, and proceeded to place her doll on his shoulder, giggling quietly to herself.

           Now, it’d be no fun if he didn’t play along!  He gave out a huge yawn, and proceeded to ensnare both the doll and his daughter, neither of them being able to escape his grasp.  Seraphina squirmed and wiggled this way and that, but to no avail.  She was trapped until he wanted to wake up, or until she somehow prodded him enough to do so.

           She giggled and laughed as her father dug his face into her doll’s hair, she poked at his cheeks and forehead and tickled under his chin.

           “Come on daddy, let’s go outside!  We’re going to solve a mystery!  The trees told me so!”

           He shot out of bed, slinging his daughter over his shoulder, “Alright!  Let’s go!”

 

~

 

_“In your motionless right hand is a bouquet of cape jasmines,_

_Which is a farewell gift for your soul that's returning to earth._

_Left behind in the world is boundless despair,_

_As well as an eternity that, hopefully, will not last.”_

           Sang the king under his breath as he read a recent report on the goings-on of his kingdom- quite lovely, too.  He wasn’t at his throne, but sitting cross-legged on a cushioned chair placed next to an open window, with a hot cup of tea resting on the windowsill.  

           The wind was peaceful, and the earth ever calm.  The waters were as placid as they can be, yet the Stars never seemed to sleep.  Why, he could feel them buzzing about now, talking, singing, burning with passions and wishes.  It was as if the inferno jumpstarted these passions.  Life continued on.

           “Hello great uncle!” a small voice chirped from behind the windowsill.  Putting the report down, Ætheros leaned out, looking down to find a ray of sunshine.

           “Good morning Seraphina!  You look very pretty today… is your daddy up yet?”  his deep, ancient voice rumbled like thunder.

           “You say that every day!  And yes, he’s over there looking into the fountain.” She nodded her head towards the misty fountain, lighted by morning splendor.

           Adjusting his chair, Ætheros forced himself a out the window and to cup his hands and call out, “General!  Your uncle is calling!”

           You could see the man’s head snap up in response.  Tucking something into his shirts, Kozmotis ran over to them, “You can start the search without me, Seraphina.  Daddy will just take a moment.”

           She ran to the garden- she didn’t need to be told twice!

           “Honestly, Kozmotis, when I was your age I ran much faster than that.  You really need to stop indulging in sweets.”

           Kozmotis laughed, leaning against the wall, “I do not eat that many sweets! And I’d like to see you run, old man!”

           To which Ætheros lifted his finger, “I see you in the kitchens at night, and trust me, my boy, that isn’t sleepwalking!  Speaking of which, I could beat you at a race anyday.”

           A frown painted Kozmotis’ face, to be quickly covered by a weak smile, “I can win you in a race, but I won’t race you for it just isn’t fair.”

           “Ahh, you just gave yourself away!  You _do_ sneak to the kitchens!  And who’s to say what’s fair?  Is it because I’m old?”

           “No, no, not because your ol- Uncle! Sit down!”  The old man had jumped over the windowsill and proceeded to stretch a little, a worried Kozmotis holding his hands out to calm him.

           “Step aside, nephew.  Let me show you how a _true_ Lïtæm does it!  I don’t blame you, though.  Your father was a tad slow in speed, after all!”

           “Uncle!”

         “Though your mother could really kick up dust!  Then again, it was always your auntie and I who really flew!”

           “Look, great uncle!  I found a rare flower!” Seraphina ran over to the adults, holding up a milk white blossom that smelled heavenly.

           “Ohh,” the old man hobbled over to the little one and peered into the bloom, “is that a cape jasmine?”

           Kozmotis pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, walking over to join the viewing.  It was a lovely flower, still decorated with dew that caught the light quite nicely.  Giving the flower to her father, Seraphina looked up to her great uncle, who smiled warmly.

           Kozmotis held the flower carefully, not wanting to bruise its flawless petals, which he stroked gently.  Ætheros cleared his throat, and turned to Seraphina, “You know, your great auntie loved those flowers most of all.  She absolutely loved the fragrance they gave off, especially at night.  That’s when they smell the best.”

           The General couldn’t help but frown.  Bringing the flower up to his nose, he breathed in its sweet scent deeply.

           “She especially loved placing them on top of teacups.  She liked how it tickled your nose while you drink the tea.  Made the tea taste better, actually.” He leaned closer to Seraphina, “Can I tell you a secret?”

           The little one nodded, smile growing bigger, brighter.

           “Your great auntie and uncle are still around, flitting about the palace, to and fro and hither and thither, and what not!  But you have to be very still and very quiet.  They move much too quickly, and you could only hear them if all is silent, for they speak much too softly.” He whispered on the last part, looking around to see if they were right there, listening.

           “Why, I suppose they’re with us right now, smiling at us as we remember them.”  He got up and gazed around him, Seraphina joining in the search.

           “You really think so, uncle?” she asked, looking up at the trees.

           “I _know_ so… Have you ever seen your auntie and uncle?  There must be a picture of them somewhere…”

           The old silver latch opened.  Holding out the silver locket, Kozmotis carefully removed a small picture, yellowed on its sides from age.  Peering into the photo, Seraphina looked into the big silver pools of a fair young lady.  She sat straight from pride (not deadly, but confident), smiled from good upbringing, and looked at the world around her with a kind, warm, innocent wisdom.  Her thick brown hair spilled over her shoulders, giving her a motherly yet slightly rebellious air about her.  With her hands neatly folded over her humble yet elegant attire, she was obviously well bred with outstanding morals to show for it.

           Next to her stood a boy of small stature, yet he held a fiery passion.  With his hand on his sister’s back, he was very attached and protective of her.  His black, messy hair reflected that of his sister’s, yet he appeared to be frank about things.  Deep blue eyes held sentiments that he held to himself- much more sincere than he seemed.  With a clever smile, the boy’s genius was confirmed.  All in all, the two were inseparable.

           Yet underneath was another picture, which was even older than the first by far.  Carefully, as his daughter peered into the precious fragment, he looked into the eyes of the family long lost.  There stood the late King of Lïtæm, his Queen- Elysium of Lunanoff- Ætheros with his blazing golden eyes –his father’s- looking young again.  His mother Ælysia smiled sweetly back at him, seeing where he got his eyes and raven hair from.  Beside them stood a strong young man with his mother brown and her ocean eyes, holding the younger Innogen with loving affection- his uncle James, the first one who travelled to the place where all forgotten breaths go and stayed, forever.

           It brought back many memories, some sad, yet most were happy, and filled with light.  As his uncle took the picture into his hands, Kozmotis sent a piece of his life to that place, in the form of a sigh.  As if watching over him, the winds took it up, into the light.  Looking around at the garden, he smiled at the thought of his loved ones standing next to him, watching.

           _“Maybe now Innogen can finally see.”_ He thought happily, glancing at what his uncle was reading earlier.

           Ætheros ran his fingers over the engravings, while tears gathered at the inscription _“Always with you”_.  Memories of sweet childhood and bitter reality crashed onto him, as he was sure it did Kozmotis.  Gathering up Seraphina, he began to tell her who was who.  “That there was our daddy- he was always strong and brave, yet he had a soft heart.  Sometimes too soft- sad things made him especially upset.  And there is our mommy, she was _very_ intelligent and clever, and always knew what to do for sad hearts.  She sang us lullabies, while our daddy told us amazing stories.  There is our older brother, James.  He was very kind, and always knew what was right.  When our parents were busy, he would take care of you grandma- there she is- my sister, and me.  He and your grandfather took very good care of us.  Then, well… he got very sick, like your auntie did.”

           Seraphina gazed into the eyes of those long ago lost to time, “Daddy told me about them, especially about his auntie Innogen.  Are her eyes really mirrors?”

           “Mmm, in a way… yes, darling.” Ætheros nodded, placing the photos carefully back into the locket.

           “They’re really pretty, I wish I had her eyes.” She giggled, sitting atop her old uncle’s knee.

           Ætheros shook his head, “I’m sorry little one, but she wouldn’t want you too.  Now go and play!  Your daddy and I have business to discuss.”

           So she ran off once more, looking for more jasmines and more clues to her family’s presence.  She looked behind trees, up trees, into the fountain, and in the light and shadows- they could be anywhere!

           And it was then that Kozmotis had finished rereading the document, eyes filled with long-suppressed rage, jaw clenched.  _“So they finally found the bastard…”_

         “I know what you are thinking, and I am warning you- do _not_ seek revenge.  You will lose yourself if you do.”

           “But look at the destruction _he_ caused because of revenge!  It is not just for him to even _live_!”

           “Listen to my words, boy!  Your family would grieve if they learned that you drank from such a cup…  I believe it is time to bid your daughter farewell, for now.”  The old king patted Kozmotis on the shoulder, eyes glazed over with solemnity and oncoming tears.

           So he continued to sing and recall the long lost days, voice wavering, memory faltering, until he would grow tired and sleep in the comfortable chair.  He would dream, but mostly his soul would rest in the pure blackness that was the subconscious.  As the others were fully “awake” in the light of reality, Ætheros was content to rest.

           Now it was Kozmotis’ turn.  Yet again, he was to depart for the vast dark that was space.  He knew how it felt for his Seraphina- his father would leave for months at a time, and he would grow sad.  However, poor Seraphina was to be left alone _without_ a mother or auntie, or uncles to care for him.

           It wasn’t fair.

           “Daddy has to go on a trip now.  I’ll be back very soon- not like last time, okay?”

           Her face fell, eyes growing misty, “But you promised that we would solve the mystery today!”

           As fat tears fell Kozmotis lifted her into his arms, “I know, I know,” he cooed, “but I need to go.  We’ll solve it when we get back, I promise.”

           She sniffled, “Cross y-your heart?”

           “Cross my heart.”

           She said nothing as he let her down, setting her on the splendor.  This worried him greatly, it always did- his precious daughter was to be left behind, broken hearted once again.  He felt absent, and hated the feeling of guilt.  It was like a burning, sinking stone that started in his throat and pulled at him to crumple into a heap.  Yet he had a duty to uphold, as well as promises to keep.  He had miles upon miles to go before this cycle was broken, and he free.

           So without turning back, he strode toward the oncoming future with determination.  Face stern, eyes piercing, he would see that his duties be done- for his little one.

 

~

 

           She hiccupped and rubbed at her tears, crying silently as her daddy left for work.  Why did he always have to go?  It was no fair that they got to spend more time with him… why did they take him away?  A flood of tears came rushing forward, she burying her face in her hands as they surged.

           _Oh, there, there.  Everything will be fine, I promise.  Don’t cry anymore, little one._

Seraphina slowly lifted her eyes from her fingers and blinked away the blurring tears.

           _Aha, see?_ The voice laughed kindly, _much better.  Take a few breaths now, little one, it’ll help you feel good again._

Rubbing her wet lashes, she hiccupped, “Wh-who are you?”

           _My little Seraphina,_ the voice cooed, _we are your guardians.  We’re here to see you smile again._

~

 

           “Retrieve the mooring lines!” Kozmotis barked as he boarded the vessel, glancing around to see if anything needed attending to.  All in all, everything was spot on as procedures for the departure were completed.  Making his way to the cockpit he turned to his second-in-command, a rather jittery young man by the name of Bates.

           “See to it that I hold conference with one of the inmates on the ship… you know which one.”  He muttered.

           The young man nodded, stuttering, “Y-yes s-sir, of course!”

           Kozmotis smiled and patted the boy on the back, “Thank you, and loosen up!  It isn’t healthy for someone of your age to be so apprehensive!”

           The young man could only nod meekly as he went back to his duties.  Kozmotis could only shrug, “New recruit.”

           With the ship coming adrift he took hold of the helm, “Be sure that the convoy is ready.  Alert them from both starboard and port, have the lookout spot them when ready to depart.”

           The airship groaned as its rigging was readied.  Minutes later Bates appeared, saluting, “The convoy is ready to depart, General.”

           Excellent.

           “Engage thrust, unfurl wings, secure all lines!” he commanded as the ship hummed with life.  The support wings began to drone as they flapped at dizzying speeds.  The hull groaned at the movement, but silenced once all was in place.

           With a steady building of speed, the convoy left the waters with ease.  As they climbed higher and higher, the angle of departure grew narrower and narrower.  It wasn’t long before the bow was subject to scorching temperatures.  Rumbling from stress and phenomenal pressures, Kozmotis could only clench the arm of his seat as he was reminded that this was the hardest part.

           Escaping the atmosphere.

           It grew hotter and hotter in the vessel as they rose.  With all loose gear secure, the violent tremors had nothing to knock over- except for the gentlemen who were standing, of course.  The men grumbled in unease, brows furrowing in agitation.  Pulling at his collar, Kozmotis could only calm his men’s nerves, “Easy now, men.”

           It grew unbearably hot as the deafening roars of the resistance and thrusters fought each other.  The ship practically vibrated as they held on for dear life.

           And then there was calm.  The fetters of the world had been broken; they were free to roam the Celestials.  The men clapped and whooped and hollered all about the convoy, some running out to the decks to wave a friendly hello at one another.

           “Be sure that the brig is secure and the inmates in good health.  Bates,” he called, the young man quickly appearing at his side, a little calmer this time around, “summon the convict to the interrogation chamber.”

           “Yes sir.”

 

~

 

           Now, truth be told, the warden was a rather grim gentleman, but that didn’t mean he was a monster.  He hated how his subordinates scurried away from him as if he was, and could only show acts of kindness through subtle gestures and displays of thanks.  It wasn’t _his_ fault that he had to look after a prison teeming with seething hordes of shades.

           No, definitely not his fault.

           He planned to retire after this last shipment of inmates.  To be honest he pitied the poor degenerates- sentenced to basically be eaten at by shadows until they rot away and fade into them- a punishment worse than Hell, in his opinion.  He swore he could’ve gone insane if he had the job of assimilating them into the dark abyss any longer.  Many men have, and he thanks the Celestials that he hasn’t.

           He turned to one of the guards as he retired to his dank chambers, “Celestials help the poor fools coming in.”

           “Celestials help them,” the man laughed bitterly, shaking his head, “’specially the blighter who’s to ‘ave the evenin’ duty.”

           The warden could only moan, “Oh, help ‘m.”

 

~

 

           By this time he should’ve been at the galley with his fellow men, giving words of wisdom and encouragement while enjoying a hot meal.  He could’ve been talking about their families and how much they miss them, what they plan to accomplish upon return, _good_ things.

           But no, the Celestials wouldn’t have it.  He was stuck here with this… this… _arsonist._ He looked him straight in the eye, yet the man couldn’t see him.

           He had grown blind.

           “I am growing impatient of your failure to cooperate _Vilnus,_ ” he spat out his name, “but I will not leave until I have an answer- _why did you do it?_ ” 

           The old man swallowed, facing his hands on the desk.

           Kozmotis slammed down on the table, “ANSWER ME!”

           The old man didn’t flinch.  Inhaling a fresh breath, he began, “Because they deserved it.”

           “Oh,” Kozmotis laughed, pinching the bridge of his nose, pacing slowly around the room, “because they deserved it.”

           His expression turned deathly serious, eyes steely.  His tone grew unyielding, “You think you’re the first to believe your actions were justified?  You are just like the psychopaths that are ripped apart at the facility.  Now, I need a better answer.  Elaborate.”

           The old man answered again, slowly, calmly, articulating syllable, “Because they _deserved_ it.”

           Kozmotis sighed, placing his hands on the table.  He shook his head slowly, not believing such cruel justifications, “It is obvious your sanity has been damned a _long,_ long time ago.  Now, if Doctor Vilnus Malnum can hear me,” his voice rose dangerously, “why did you _KILL THEM?”_

           The doctor shot up from the seat, “BECAUSE,” he yelled, a deranged grin distorting his features, “because she didn’t take her medicine!  She didn’t listen!  She was naughty!  Her brother was merely collateral!  A mere dust mote!  They were doomed from the start!”

           Kozmotis had had enough, with a simple wave of his hand, two of his men dragged the man away, but he was still raving.

           “Her days were numbered!  All our days are!  Yours and mine are ticking away! Ticking, ticking, ticking!!  We all live to die, there’s no point to life!”

          Kozmotis shook his head disapprovingly.  He sighed heavily, resting his head on his palm as his mind churned.  Why, why, _why,_ did this fool kill his Innogen and Invennero?  What did he possibly hope to gain?  Money?  No, he would’ve held them hostage.  Fame?  Heh, more like infamy…

           The damned bastard was insane _._ That’s all there was to it.  The guilt probably ate at him, or the exposure to such concentrated medications cooked his mind.  Regaining his composure, Kozmotis turned out of the room to fill his empty stomach.  However, his stomach would have to wait, for he remembered something that had been long forgotten.

           “Bates!!” he practically yelled, stalking over to the young man who stuttered from surprise, “Y-yes sir?!”

           “I need doctor Vilnus Malnum’s track record, as well as data from the air quality above the coastal mountains, say twenty fathoms _above_ ground, do you understand?” Kozmotis shook the boy’s shoulders lightly, eyes keen and bright.

           The boy could do nothing but nod, “Yes sir”, and retrieve the records.  Fumbling here and there, Bates couldn’t help but wonder aloud, “Not meaning to sound disrespectful, sir, but what are these files for?”

           Kozmotis, with his usual composure- hand behind back, shoulders squared, chest out, head held high- tapped the glass window of the doctor’s cell experimentally, “We are to finish what my aunt started.  Have you the records?”

           “Yes, right here!”  Bates spread the papers out upon the desk, beaming in pride.  Perhaps this officer thing would be easier than he thought!

           “Good, now retrieve the arsonist.”

           Nevermind.  Gathering up what little pluck he had, the young man unlocked the doctor’s cell and proceeded to herd the lunatic out.  It would’ve been easier if the old man hadn’t kicked at his shins so ruthlessly with his heels, but he got him out nonetheless.

           _“Auntie you really are clever,”_ thought Kozmotis as he placed the papers back down onto the desk in front of her murderer, _“if only you were here to see it.”_

           “Not only did you commit arson, fraud, and pre-meditative murder, you have also added toxic, industrial pollutants to the atmosphere.  Do you realize that you’ve contaminated the air?  The birds, the trees, _everything_ has been tainted by your precious medicine.  And, oh, what’s this?” Kozmotis whipped the doctor’s file into his hand, “You are blind and dying from what my aunt and uncle were diagnosed with!  Yet you, who had administered your miracle concoction to many of your patients, refuse to partake of it?  And why is that?  Because-!”

           “BECAUSE IT TOLD ME TO!” the old man wailed, crumpling onto the desk as he sobbed uncontrollably.  The General was taken aback- frankly, he didn’t know that the old man had feelings.  Yet there was to be no letting down, he continued, calmer, but still his authoritarian self, “What told you to?”

           The man continued to wail, cough, and splutter.  He was dying from a rotting heart and mind.  Something much more sinister was eating at the man, Kozmotis could feel it.  Once the doctor’s fit ceased, he continued, “There’s this… essence that haunts those who have seen too much, or too little.  It’s as if it takes your soul and crushes it into nothingness.  That’s exactly what it is- Nothingness.”

           “It tried to do the same to Ms. Lïtæm, but she somehow countered it.  I should have listened to her brother, but I was too prideful…  I hope you- I hope she… forgives me of what I’ve done.”

           It cascaded down onto Kozmotis violently.  It filled him with bubbling anger and a gnawing denial that merited deep, flaring breaths.  He couldn’t, and he wouldn’t.  “No,” he growled dangerously, “I do not forgive you.”

           The old man nodded despondently, “I understand.”

           “Return him to his cell.”

           Two officers approached the old doctor, but he held up his hands for them to stop.  Humbly, he shuffled back to his bunk, sitting as Bates locked the cell door once again.  With the General dismissing the officers, he found the courage to speak again.

           “I truly am sorry,” he murmured, “she was a very intelligent, imaginative young lady.  So said the entire Constellation, if I remember correctly.”

           “She is,” Kozmotis replied, his head slightly turned- he had begun to leave, yet he had to have the last word, “and she is so much more… I hope you’re ready for your sentence- it is the _least_ you deserve.”

 

~

 

           It burst and sparked with excitement and exhaustion, yet it absolutely had to continue its course, or else its own wish will never be fulfilled- to be wished upon.  Rocketing through the flimsy atmosphere, it homed in on the brightest star- he could feel it in his heart where she was.  Finally, after forty-three years of zipping through the vast Celestials, he had found her once more.  Why, he was so excited he flew into her and almost knocked her off balance.

           She laughed, and it sounded like wind chimes- just like it should, “Why hello there, it seems that you are my first star for tonight.  I’m sure others will come quite soon now that you’ve arrived.”

           With delicate flourish, Innogen produced a nurturing flame for the star to act as an incubator.  Holding it in her palms, she brought it close to her heart, and breathed in steadily, causing the flame to shrink.  When she exhaled, the flame grew and burned brighter, causing the other two to look on in awe.

           “What is she doing?” Seraphina asked, tugging on Invennero’s sleeve.  He shrugged nonchalantly, “I dunno.  The stars like it, so she does it.”

           Seraphina nodded slowly, and approached the radiant maiden with query.  The little star was sparking with joy and burst out in beautiful colors, creating sounds of which she never heard.  She stared into its core, eyes never shying away from the light, for this light wasn’t harsh, but gentle.  She tugged at her great auntie’s cloak, and was very happy to once again see the girl from the picture alive and well.

           “Can I hold him?” she asked, golden eyes meeting silver.

           “Of course, here- keep him close to your heart, they love the warmth that it gives off.” Innogen instructed gently, passing the little star to the child’s waiting hands.

           Seraphina slowly brought it to her bosom, and began to giggle.  It buzzed and fluttered and thrummed like a heartbeat, “It’s like a butterfly!”

           “See?  Didn’t I tell you that if you looked hard enough you can find them?” Ætheros sauntered to them, a cup of tea in his hand.  He took a long, appreciative drink, and continued, “If only your daddy was here, Seraphina.  I bet he would give _anything_ to see this.  The good thing is that he’ll only be gone for two days, so he’ll be back very soon!”

           “He will?!” Seraphina beamed, bouncing on the balls of her little feet.

           “Of course!  Now it’s time for your dinner, and bed time afterwards!  Say goodbye for now, little one.”  

           “Ohhh, can’t I stay up a little longer?  Please?”

           “Ah, now, now.  A little girl needs her rest,” Innogen cooed softly, getting down on her knee, “But remember that I will always be with you, even while you sleep.” She took her in an embrace, all the while stroking her hair, “We can play first thing tomorrow.  I promise.”

           “Mmm, okay… what’s this?”  Seraphina’s pouted as she inspected her auntie’s left hand.  Covering her palm and gingers was a discolored, pink blotchy area that spattered from the tips of her fingers to her wrist.  The closer you got towards the middle, the darker it became- colored dark crimson.

           Innogen took her hand back and began to massage it as if it still hurt, “It’s a burn.  I got it a very long time ago from holding something hot.”  Her eyes flickered as memories of mortality returned to her, bringing back voices and fragrances.

           Soon a smile graced her lips and her eyes had their usual shine, “But it doesn’t hurt anymore.  Now go eat your supper!”  

           Seraphina sighed, filled to the brim with ecstasy.  Kissing her great auntie and uncle on their cheeks, she ran to old Ætheros to have a warm dinner.  She couldn’t stop smiling- she just couldn’t wait until her daddy got home!  Then he could stop being sad about auntie and uncle and mommy.

           They all watched the two cross the garden, wondering what would happen the next day, and the day after that, and so on.  Flickering out chimes of color, the star was happy to finally be here with his family after all those long years of waiting.  Zipping around the two starchildren, the star planted quick, chaste kisses on the both of them.

           Invennero laughed as he rubbed at his cheek.  Looking to the sky, he saw more stars incoming, “Here they come, Inno!”

           “I see them.” She replied calmly, which in a way wasn’t true, for she was still blind.  She can _sense_ them and hear them- they sounded positively ecstatic- but she couldn’t see them.

           And she was completely fine with that.

           Sprinting into the night, shining brighter and brighter with each breathe, Innogen lifted her head heavenward.  Tracking the star’s path, she ran faster and faster until the zenith, where she kicked off the earth and ascended into the sky, arms spread out, entire being visible as a great mass of light.  

           One by one, the falling stars disappeared in mid-flight.  They found themselves home once more.

 

~

 

           Claustrophobia.  This colossal mass of shadow was benign, yes, but the way it blocked out light and warmth made the crew shudder.  Who knew what sorts of diabolical beasts lay in the darkness?  There was the prison- a sprawling fortress complete with turrets and their own army- all laid out on an abandoned shard of earth.  The signal tower lit up the gloom with harsh rays of light, yet when a ray passed over a cloud of murk, it gave off a dull, viscous glow.

           Docking was a breeze, yet every man knew that the most difficult task was to come.  It made them shudder at the thought, yet they had to swallow their fears and face them.  It wasn’t transporting the convicts, nor was it assimilating them- though some who had this duty may disagree.

           It was resisting the whispers, screams, and voices of those long since faded.  Their malice still remained, left behind in the form of shadows and words.  They could broadcast themselves through any wall and decipher any fear, and could touch almost any mind.  The only minds they couldn’t touch would be the minds of the innocent- children.

           Not a single child to be found.

           So they writhed in the darkness, trying their best to unearth the fears these new visitors held deep in the recesses of their minds.

           Kozmotis shouldered his scythe as he led the standing officers into the complex- time to commence the night shift.  With shrill bells and a few shouts of command here and there, the standing army filed out as Kozmotis’ men filled their places.  Being the General of the Golden Army, his cohort of men were the best there was.  This earned some reverence as his leading subordinates departed the forgotten realm and returned to their families.  They saluted and shook hands to those who were taking their place, their composure wilting and their eyes tired.

           It appears that the shades were growing restless.

           As the cohorts divided and began their rounds, the warden of the fortress arrived to greet Kozmotis.

           “Kozzy!  Pleasure to see you again- how’s the little one?” he bellowed, patting the General on the back as they shook hands firmly.

           “The pleasure is all mine, and she is faring well, thank you.  So, what do you make of this?” he brought the conversation back to matter at hand- strictly business, per the norm.

           “Agh,” the man waved his hand, “they’re just riled up because they’re stir-crazy.  Staying in there would make anyone lose their sanity.”  They walked towards the warden’s study to go over the state of the facility, “Say, would you like some tea?  Helps clear the mind.”

           “That’d be lovely, thank you.” He replied as he rested his scythe against a wall and switched to a teacup on a saucer.  Sipping the brew experimentally, he found it a tad flat in taste.  The mint was subdued to a ghost of a tinge while the sugar overpowered the spices.  It was just a mere saccharine blend.

           Hushed music reverberated off the many books the warden held in his study, “So,” the warden began, “any news?  Any interesting inmates coming my way?”

           Kozmotis lingered towards the window, where he had a perfect view of his top officers assimilating the new arrivals with the moaning shades.

           “There is one…”

 

~

 

           The Stars stirred, mumbling and murmuring amongst them as something wicked awakened.  They called to their children, who looked to them in rapt attention.  They flickered and twinkled in haste, trying to send their voices across the Celestials to warn them to prepare themselves.  

           She felt it in her heart- a small, demanding plea that called for an answer, and soon.  Though the Stars warned her against it, she knew it was her duty to respond… It was strange how it called for Innogen specifically.  She turned to her brother, “Stay here while I see to what’s making them uneasy.  I’ll be right back.” And with that, she fizzled out of view, and travelled by light.

           Now, travelling by light is tricky business.  Firstly, you can’t go too fast for fear of “spontaneous” combustion of the objects around you.  Secondly, you have to know where you are going, or else you’ll miss your destination by a few light-years.  Lastly, the landing must be subtle, or else you may create a crater and even more combustion.  It’s not the objects that worry one who light-travels- for you literally become light, and phase right through them- it’s the take-off and landing.

           Innogen appeared on a patch of dull grass.  Sounds of grinding, clanking metal and marching drills and boots reached her ears.  She flexed her fingers- there wasn’t much light here.  She sensed great amounts of darkness surrounding this place, and she remembered from her studies what this place was.

           The Prison of Shadows- the very one that should’ve been cloaked in light rather than shadow, had her grandfather had his way.  Following the sound of the plea, the shades tried to distract her by whispering and hissing behind their walls.

           _Girlie, pretty girlie,_ they rasped, _please remove these soldiers.  We know you can._

_Now, why would I do something like that?  I’ll help you somehow, but without such meanness.  Now, if you’ll excuse me…_

_Girlie is the mean one!_ they hissed, _Girlie doesn’t want to help, Girlie is afraid.  Girlie would rather us rot in here!_

 _Enough!_ Innogen’s light shined in warning, _I do not think such things!  I, who have seen nothing but darkness, do not fear you.  Like my grandfather, Emperor Zephyr of Lïtæm, I wish to heal your hurting hearts.  Please, let me be on my way, for someone needs my aid.  I’ll come and turn you to light when I’m done.  Just be patient._

The shadows obeyed, and kept themselves quiet throughout the fortress.  The officers felt immediate relief, and continued their duties with a glimmer of hope that their shift would be over rather soon. Slinking away from Innogen’s radiance that penetrated their walls, the Fearlings could only hear her make her way to the assimilation yard.

           In the bunkers sat a lone man, waiting for the dreaded moment when he would be assimilated.  He cried in broken sobs and wiped his meager tears away with his weathered hands.  “Forgive me, forgive me,” he moaned softly as he sniffled and hiccupped.

           The screams of the other men reached where he sat, and his tears only fell faster and hotter at the sound of them.  His heart raced and his breathing became erratic.  To be torn apart by shadows and have your entire essence ripped to shreds, with nothing left but regret, fear, and anger?  No, no, it was a fate he had nightmares of when he was a child.

           His heart hurt greatly, and his breaths became shallow, _“Please forgive me,”_ he whispered, _“it’s all I ask.”_

“I forgive you.” A compassionate voice sounded in front of him.  Shooting up from his hunched over position, he reached out, and felt warmth caress his body.  There was a light shining in front of him.  He smiled, and laughed, “Is- is that-?”

           “Yes,” she placed her hand on his forehead, “and I forgive you.”

           That was all he needed to hear.

           “Thank you.”

 

~

 

           Kozmotis paced the length of the great doorway that lead to the heart of the prison.  On the other side writhed the shades of Dreamthieves, now Fearlings and Nightmare Men, who moaned and hissed in contempt.  The General was in great distress, for the doctor left for the Eternals far too early than he thought.  The old man either died of a heart attack, or of the cancer that was ailing him.  Yes, Kozmotis felt relief that he was finally gone, but he felt that justice wasn’t properly served.

           “Well, now that I’m here, I guess we can talk, even though you can’t hear me,” Innogen shrugged as she floated beside her nephew, “Just try to listen, alright?”

           Kozmotis hefted the scythe to a more comfortable position and continued to ponder on his thoughts.

           “I am _very_ proud of you.  We all are.  Your accomplishments are amazing and your feats spectacular.  But…” Innogen proceeded to poke his chest, her finger phasing right through him, “You have to learn how to forgive!  You hold too much in your heart, and that’s why you feel so heavy!  I know your mother, father, wife, and I aren’t with you anymore, but at least remember the time we spent together!”

           _“Forgive, forgive,”_ was all Kozmotis heard, “Innogen?” he asked the air.

           “Yes!” she laughed, “I’m right here! Little Kozmotis!  My Kozzy! Here!!”

           He frowned and shook his head, “What an awful trick!  Damned shades…” he cursed.

           “No!” Innogen cried out, stepping onto the ground to face Kozmotis, “I’m right here!  Please see me!”

           He continued to guard the menacing door, passing through Innogen as he paced.  Accepting that he wouldn’t see her today, she sat in front of where he paced. Resting her chin on her palm, she decided that a few moments of thought would help her greatly.

           As the hours waned into the depths of the night, Kozmotis’ heart grew heavier and heavier.  Memories from when he was a child visited him, making his heart ache from longing of the days long past.  His radiant mother and father, who showered him with love, as well as his uncle Ætheros and his many remedies for unhappiness.  Invennero’s creative spirit that never ceased to amaze him… and Innogen- the most compassionate, sweetest person he has ever met, and never will meet again.

           Memory upon memory fell upon him, and his spirit grew sad.  _“What would they say,”_ he thought devastatingly, _“of me leaving my poor little girl behind so often?”_

It shamed him to think of what they would say.  He could imagine his aunt Innogen crying at the thought of him being gone for so long, crying tears that have never seen, yet have seen it all.

           He sought solace in the face of the remaining.  Pulling out his aunt’s locket, he stopped pacing to reflect upon the frozen memories.

           There they were- the young family, where hearts were whole.  Why then, did the Celestials take James away from them?  It was the beginning of the end.  Pulling out the next photo, he met the blind eyes of his aunt, long since gone.  She was to be forever remembered as a maiden, and her brother an innovative youth.

           Tears burned at his eyes, yet he blinked them away as he viewed the last picture.  There was his daughter, smiling her precious smile with her eyes twinkling like stars.  He stroked the picture lovingly, eyes glancing to the inscription _“Always with you”_.

           “I can feel that you’re despairing,” Innogen mumbled under her breath, “all I can offer to you is warmth.”  Getting to her feet, she radiated light that came across as a small flutter of heat to Kozmotis.  He was thankful for the lovely gift, yet continued to dwell on such longing thoughts.

           “ _Please, Daddy,”_ the shades whispered, _“Please, please, please open the door.”_

Kozmotis’ eyes lit up, yet they soon dimmed over as he realized what the plea was: a mere Fearling trick.  He clenched his jaw and squared his shoulders against such trickery, yet the malicious shades wouldn’t relent.

           _“Daddy,”_ they mimicked, _“I’m trapped in here with the shadows… I’m scared… Please open the door!  Help me, Daddy, please!”_

He looked to the photograph again, yet the shadows grew impatient, _“Daddy, Daddy help!”_ they begged desperately.

           _Enough of this!_ “Kozmotis, don’t listen to them!”

           _“Daddy, I’m scared!”_

 _Stop this nonsense!_ “Don’t listen, they’re lying!  Seraphina is sleeping in her bed, safe!!”

           _“It’s scary in here, Daddy!  Help me!!”_

Some say it is love that destroys.  With panic, he reached to the door’s handles and flung them open.  What was once the face of a troubled, loving father turned to darkness.  Like a conflagration the shadows overtook the General of the Golden Army, pouring and slithering around him and into him, suffocating him in insidious darkness.

           “ _AWAY WITH YOU!”_ the blind warrior yelled, releasing the brightest rays of light to ever exist, yet the darkness did not yield.  It scurried away and between her rays and to her beloved nephew, who struggled and fought and screamed at the darkness that filled his body and soul.

           They were eating at him.

           Picking up her locket, she ran to his aid, only to be pushed back by thick, strong shades that hissed and growled, _Girlie can’t glow bright enough!  Poor poor Girlie!  Girlie would make a lovely Fear-princess!  It doesn’t hurt that bad!  Girlie would taste sweet!_

They laughed and cackled, taunting them as they struggled.  _Daddy, Daddy!_ They mocked, ruthless and unfeeling.

           Then a great roar shook the foundations of the entire facility, followed by menacing laughter of thousands upon thousands of Fearlings.

           It was then that Innogen could take no more.  With a thought of peace, she evaporated into thin air and flew through the Celestials.

 

~

 

           The darkness was coming, the Stars couldn’t deny this.  With their final messages of farewell, they braced themselves for the worst.  The darkness roiled and grew and swallowed whoever and whatever was in its path, with their newly crowned king as their leader.  Animal as he was, he commanded that all light be snuffed out and dreams destroyed.  Whatever was held dear during the time of the Golden Age was to be completely annihilated, with darkness revered as the almighty virtue.

           Quickly, quickly Innogen ran into the palace and took hold of her brothers and great niece.  Invennero knew exactly what was going on, and gathered what he found was necessary.  Seraphina trembled from the late night chill and huddled with her great uncle, “Wh-what’s happening?”

           “Something that should have never happened.” Ætheros shook his head, tears freely falling.  Innogen hugged them tightly, and croaked, “I love you two so much.  Please trust me when I do this, and do not be frightened.  Stay in my heart, always.”  Her heart began to glow a brilliant, pure white light that enveloped them sweetly, kindly.  As Invennero worked on their supplies the light diminished back to the maiden’s usual radiance, where in her hands she held two stars.  Kissing them both, she embraced them into her heart as sparks and flames erupted from her chest.

           Great bells rang throughout the capital as they did throughout the Constellations.  The darkness was diffusing at such a great speed that it seemed as if it was a hungry flame.  Left and right the Nightmare King devoured the Stars, and he had yet to feel satisfied. He ripped apart the happiness of those poor souls who couldn’t escape him, and turned them into his servants.

           Taking Invennero’s hand into hers, she prepared to convert into pure light.  Breathing in one last breath of her home, they disappeared into the Celestials.

 

           The Stars’ final cries fill the Celestials.  The last glimmers of the Golden Age forever lost to memory.  Millions are overtaken by the darkness.  _His_ darkness.  As he glides through the Seas of Space, Pitch fills with a sense of utter ecstasy as all that he has ever hated falls.

           There it was, the brightest Constellation- Lïtæm.  He relished at the thought of its lights spluttering out by his own hand.  He drew closer, eyes gleaming menacingly as the fancies became more and more apparent.

           And then something stopped him.  Just as he was about to invade the Constellation, a radiant beam of pure illumination flashed past him.  And for a few seconds, he swore he saw a ghost from a time he could not recall.

           _We cheated,_ his shadows whispered hoarsely, shifting nervously.

           “What are you going on about?” Pitch growled cruelly.

           _Nothing but nice…  Nothing but nice, and truthful…_

A pain erupted from the Nightmare King’s heart.  Clutching his chest, Pitch gazed upon the glittering Constellation once more.

           “Leave it be.  Quarantine the entire kingdom, and take the people for our army.”

           He had other matters at hand, such as finding the fabled child who never had nightmares and paying him a long since overdue visit.

 

~

 

Mnesymone has been lost.  Glass shattered.  Fire burns.  Light grows.  Darkness stretches.  All to converge on an orb of cerulean and forest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To Earth.


	9. Whole Made of Fragments ~Sounds~

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Sorry for the lateness!!!)  
> Life on the new world.

Part IX

 

Whole Made of Fragments

~

Sounds

 

            Contrary to popular belief, the floating island of Laputa isn’t necessarily an island. Nor is it a castle, or a city.  There are no inhabitants, nor were there ever any inhabitants to begin with.  There never was a royal family, much less a king, so it never caused any tyranny upon a country named Lilliput, much less any country at all.  Truth be told, its name isn’t even Laputa- it’s a pseudonym, given to it when a rather inquisitive lad by the name of Gulliver inquired politely of the island’s whereabouts. The owner of the island agreed, but on one condition- that the lad never tells a soul of what the island actually is.

            Together, they created its identity of everything it positively _wasn’t-_ home to paranoid yet brilliant scientists and nobles, who wasted their knowledge on useless whims- scared of the sun being snuffed out, or a meteor shooting them down.  The wives of the nobles were adulterous (as their husbands were much more preoccupied with catastrophic matters), and frequently went to the fabled country of Lilliput, as the men there were favorable.  Therefore, this made Laputa a predominantly male society, for the women that left Laputa never returned.  And who would? What with a tyrannical king who threatened those below with threats of blocking out the sun and rain, or even crushing them with Laputa itself.

            No, no. What it _was_ wasn’t any of these things- it was a cloud, so it couldn’t crush anything.  It usually held one occupant- sometimes two, sometimes three if you counted the tree that the first inhabitant planted when she discovered the special little cloud.  The ruler of this cloud was not tyrannical, and neither was the tree, mind you! The occupants who in actuality only visited frequently were very intelligent, yes, but not frightened at any cosmic circumstance, and so they put their knowledge to amazing use.  They were not adulterous, or frightened, or rude, or frivolous…

            The island’s name isn’t Laputa- it’s Ætheros- dedicated to the memory of not only their brother, but of their entire family.  Its purpose was to navigate the world and help its owner distribute sparks to keep the many flames of Innocence alight.  It was also a rendezvous point for incoming shooting stars (wishes) to wait for the arrival of their guardian, who arrived every night and tended to them.

            Some stars had travelled for years, others for a few days.  Some began their voyage since decades ago, and required the most attention and nourishment.  But they were glad to see their guardian and caretaker, and took joy in residing in her warm heart.  There in her heart did they wait until the day finally came that they were to grant someone a wish, and how they loved the very idea of it!  To be wished upon was to be created into a person’s hope, and their guardian did her absolute best that they were to be used for a good dream.  She searched and thought and thought again, scrutinized and tended to the stargazer’s flames, and only after a vast amount of thinking and discerning did their caretaker release them from their sanctuary and into the hands of the stargazer.

            Their caretaker (whom they often called “mother”) had to be extra careful.  There were wicked people in the world, mixed in with the good.  And some of the especially wicked ones knew what to do with stars if they got their hands on one.  If a star is eaten, the consumer would be granted immortality.  And no one should be given a curse such as immortality while still living in humanity.

            Some had already succeeded in doing so.

            However, they achieved this in a rather grotesque way- one that required eating the heart of a living star raw, while it was still alight.  This saddened their mother greatly, and the stars always feared for their mother’s health and safety, especially when she was journeying to remedy the problem, for she and her brother were stars, too.  But, they were clever children, so the stars had very little to worry about.

            Now, as for the fabled country of Lilliput, it wasn’t necessarily an _island,_ per say.  It was a jagged piece of sizeable earth- enough area that you can build a roomy house and have enough space for yard.  However, it’d be very difficult to build a house on it due to the jagged rocks and ruthless ocean that battered its sides.  So the two built a lighthouse instead- one that reached to the heavens and just barely poked above the stratus- that way they could greet the Sun and Moon every morning and bid them farewell every night. 

           The lighthouse was constructed of sturdy white stone that held a large workshop at its base, an open space for flora that was supported by twelve great columns at its center level, and living quarters at its higher levels.  Large furnaces took up the base so the Guardian of Invention could tinker away as he pleased, and it helped keep him busy of course.  He always sketched out new ideas with the help of his sister, who spent her time in the higher regions of the tower tending to the garden or the hearths.  She would visit her little brother often, but found that she really could construct nothing due to her blindness, so she’d go off to tend to flames and books and whatnot.

           However, this was only if she had free time.  Not something that often came her way.

           She spent a majority of her time patrolling the globe for children that needed their flames fed.  This new world called Earth- though it called itself Terra- was intriguing.  The Golden Age never touched this realm, so it was all rather primordial.  It was her job to keep their flames of Innocence alight, else they may be haunted by poor childhoods their entire lives.  So she visited child after child and fed their flames, keeping them bright and warm as she went.  For the most part she remained invisible and silent, though if a child was having a terrible day, she wouldn’t mind having a chat with them face to face.

           They enjoyed seeing her very much, but once the spell of childhood wears off, they forget.  Their flames dwindle, and leave smoldering embers instead.  It was getting more and more frequent that one’s flame be snuffed out entirely, and the age of the children awakening from their childhood also seemed to get younger and younger as the years passed.  However, she did what she could.  Some were so successful that they made it into adulthood with healthy flames- a very rare occurrence.

           It was also her responsibility to keep the world’s flames at peace.  The Fire was notorious for losing its temper, despite its good intentions.  Of course, the people here abused the Fire, so it would often feel hurt.  It was to be used in small amounts, with only good deeds to be thought while using it.  Yet the people used it to wage wars, and Warflames are quite the monsters- always hungry, always wanting to get bigger and fatter.  Only she, being the flamewhisperer, could tame them by voice.  Now, unlike the others, Fire didn’t speak.  Like the Sun-named Sol- it sang.  Though if the wild flames grew too big and too terse to listen, she would have to snuff it herself, soak it in, or overwhelm it with her pure flames by back burning it.  Grueling business, but it had to be done.

            So the two’s days would end with strength to spare, or it being taxed completely, covered in oil or soot, respectively.  Though they both had one more job to do before retiring- bidding farewell to the Sun and greeting the Moon.  Evidently, the Sun was very talkative compared to the Moon.  She spoke every day, whether it be a greeting or a helpful piece of advice, but the Moon was quiet compared to the one it borrowed light from.  Of course they understood this, and greeted the Moon regularly.  Even the Sun didn’t mind, and gladly shared her more than bountiful light to him.  

            Now, Invennero loved to accompany his sister whenever they greeted the Sun and the Moon.  He absolutely _had_ to come, for that’s when his sister sang.  She sang of old tales and stories, poems- anything that would be perfect to greet someone with.  Though it was easier to just simply talk to them, his sister felt it was necessary to sing because, well, who _wouldn’t_ want to be serenaded to?  A song could lift anyone’s spirits, so a song is what she gave.

            And Invennero _loved_ it.  Even if he was busy he’d rise from his workbench and run up the tower just to listen, gadget in one hand and tool in the other.  Once she was done, he would smile, and slowly make his way back to his workshop as his sister left for star catching or flame keeping.  Most days he had the entire tower to himself, so he’d test out his gadgets in the open section of the tower.  He fancied aviation, though he made wheeled objects as well as flying ones.  On idealess days he would go to his sister’s section of the tower and play with the great glass mobile they constructed, or play an instrument she found upon her wanderings.  They both had plenty to do.

            It was rare of them to have days where they had completely nothing to do.  When their determined work ethic and promptness caught up with them, they found that all their jobs were done.  On those days the two found it only right to have a little fun.  So they would head out to the nearest storm ad begin with greeting the lightening.  Lightening took on the form of great serpents that hopped from cloud to cloud all while making a tremendous ruckus with their collisions, and they adored the two sparks who understood their nature.  If not too busy playing games, a lightening serpent will let the two mount on its thin back to give them a ride, or have a race with the other serpents.  This usually ended with the storm moving on, and the two waving goodbye to their companions.

            Now, what is the most treasured thing a storm leaves in its wake, besides a rainbow?  This treasure is cherished by children of all ages, yet is scorned upon by- most- adults.  Usually, after creating the rainbow, the two siblings would save this treat for last.

            Puddles.

           The two venerated the act of splashing through puddles.  Childish to the extreme, yes, but one must admit that it is fun to break the placid pools.  They used to do this with their siblings when they were younger.  That was a long, long time ago, yet the memory was vivid.  Ending with Invennero going off to bed while his sister caught stars, he dreamed of days past and of possibilities to come.  

           Meanwhile, Innogen kept the flames bright and the stars in her heart warm, with the silent Moon and whispering Stars for company.

 

~

 

            The moonscape seemed to brighten during earthrise.  With the solar winds blowing and the Stars’ melodious whispering of a language unknown to him, Tsar Lunar of the Constellation Lunanoff was at peace.  All the while he gazed upon the earth, wondering how things were faring under that distant blue sky.

            He sighed, pulling a lever to steady the swell of the Earth’s waters while the Sun did the same opposite of him.  Turning a few gears, the pull was steadied and he was free to return to his thoughts and studies.  However, he felt that reading wouldn’t set his mind at ease so he stepped out of one of the many exits from the ship and bounded across the lunar surface.

            As he leapt the ships moonbots waved to him here and there, busy gathering materials for the dormant ship that was the Moon.  He crossed whole craters and great distances until he finally came across a clearing in Mare Crisium, where he paused to take in the blue jewel against a bed of black velvet.

           He remembered frenzied voices and haste.  Haste and tremors and panic as one by one the points of light in the sky disappeared from sight.  He was only an infant then, and wondered why they boarded such a small vessel.  Why his parents- although they smiled and sang him sweet lullabies- spoke is frantic, hushed voices not too far from him.  Some days they were so busy that moonboots had to keep watch over him, along with his spectral nanny- an older cousin of his by the name of Nightlight.

           Now he too was busy with learning all that those before him knew.  The knowledge of the Golden Age just couldn’t be lost.  He would learn it all, by any means necessary, and use it for another Golden Age- a revival, if you will.  He had no time for many frivolous activities and already wasted enough time as it was just thinking.  Willing the solar winds to come to him, he was carried off to a nearby entrance and stepped into the (for now) marooned ship.

           It wasn’t that he was terribly busy- no, not because he was busy- but because, unlike the Sun or the Stars, Tsar Lunar just wasn’t _that_ powerful.  Yes, he had the advanced technology and teachings of the Golden Age at his disposal, but that was to be used for situations that called for such measures.  And of course he was positively humbled when the Sun gave him so much of her light to use (she was really too kind). 

           He was just a polite, modest man- a Tsar, yes- but a man nonetheless.  The Sun, for example, was divine in power.  Easily the most dominant celestial influence there- then there was the Stars.  The Stars governed all things throughout the Celestials, and were the most benevolent and powerful force out there, and with the Sun being their sister, it’s obvious on who held all the authority.

           Yet they were kind, and granted him powers of his own so as to keep a sharp eye on the earth, and trusted him to help safeguard the children.  In order for another age to come about- one that rivaled and hopefully surpassed the Golden Age- the young generations had to be protected from hindrances such as destruction and fear and any sort of depravity.

           In order to usher in the coming age, he was granted to hold emissaries and- being the son and nephew of the most beloved Kings and Queens as well as cousin of two certain Star ambassadors- was to have a greater hold over the earth due to his character and lineage.

           That, and he supposed that the Stars needed only two guardians to handle their affairs. 

           Anyhow, he had chosen his guardians, and now waited until his eternally-young cousins ran into his potent emissaries.  

_That will be quite interesting,_ he mused as he opened another yellowing book.

 

~

 

           There it was again.  That sound…

           …

           He closed his eyes, and listened carefully.  What was it?  He searched his mind carefully as faint sounds of escaping air- a rather hollow sound- and roaring fire reached his ears.  Was it fear of flames?  No, no, it’d be much louder and chaotic.  Perhaps fear of annihilation?  No, that fear would be much too strident.

           The soft rush of air continued to whisper, until it ultimately hollowed out.  It was then that the Nightmare King recognized the sound- it was that distant echo that could be heard on a winter’s day, when all was perfectly still.  Yet something still remained- the rumbling of fire.

           Surely that was no Fearling of his..?

           He cleared his thoughts as the sound grew ever closer.  It wasn’t a fire, but a steady grumbling, as if one was casting incantations.  He stood his ground and readied a wicked blade of black metal, forged from the darkest deposits of lead and filled with the most malicious of thoughts.

           His ears were ringing as the sound enveloped him.  A putrid smell filled his nostrils- one of rotting, burning things- yet he would not be so easily removed.  Even the sound was not as pleasant as before, and continued to roar and moan.  Malevolent chuckles laced the ringing delicately, yet he would not be fooled.  He followed the source of the sound with his blade at the ready.  

           Yet the repulsive aura passed on, stench and all.  Unbelieving that it was truly gone from his realm, the King melded into the shadows and quickly checked every cavern and crevice through the darkness that filled his home.  It had disappeared, and that is what angered him- it wasn’t a shade, or Fearling, or Nightmare Man.  It wasn’t anything, for he would’ve known if anything entered his dominion.  Yet it infiltrated _his_ kingdom and threatened him with its presence.  Was it another spirit?  Feeding off of the dark recesses of humans’ imaginations?  If so, it certainly was encroaching on his territory!  It wanted a challenge, of this Pitch was certain.

           And the King of Nightmares never backs down from a challenge.

           Sheathing his sword he descended to the center of his realm, where there lay a pool of the blackest water.  It was deathly stagnant, and looked as if the waters came from the river Styx itself.  Halting at the pool’s edge, his reflection looked back at him, yet- at the command of his thoughts- was twisted into an image of a landscape.

           It was a dark forest, illuminated by faint moonlight and a few fireflies here and there. He smirked- of course such a malicious spirit would go to such a place! Corruption was its specialty- and so was his.

            As he summoned his strongest shades, the glassy pool faded to its customary solid blackness. Amalgamating with his chosen shadows, the Nightmare King stepped into the pool and was swallowed up by arms of the water. The mass of blackness fell back to its stillness and the realm was silent.

 

~

 

            A sharp pain bit at his finger tip, causing his hand to flinch. Holding up the pricked finger, a small bead of blood formed, causing him to hiss at his wound.

            He never knew that sewing was this painful!

            Sucking at his finger, Invennero stepped back to view his work thus far- the leather straps looked lovely, and were perfect for keeping the cloak closed and from billowing when it was windy.  He glanced to his sketches as he looked over the details, and grinned.  Wiping his hands yet again on a cloth he kept handy, he picked up the garment and viewed the back, where he had spent hours upon hours meticulously embroidering the Constellation Mark his sister held in her eyes.  Nodding in approval, he folded the cloak and tied a pretty white ribbon around it and ran up the steps of his workshop to find his sister.

            With his newly made grey cloak he hid his sister’s yellow one in its folds, it swaying nicely as he bounded up the many steps of the light tower.  He twirled here and there, and flapped his arms occasionally to see how it swelled.  He was very proud of himself- his first creation that wasn’t mechanized!  He sewed and embroidered and pricked his fingers to kingdom come- most definitely one of his more difficult creations, and in fact planned to put together even more outfits for themselves.

            Ah!  There was his sister, tending to the flames of the stars she had captured a few nights before.  She spoke reassuringly to them in Starspeak, words musical and lilting and they replied with their colorful lights and chimes.  Walking slowly to them, he waved a friendly hello to the little wishes, who in turn zipped to him and rubbed against his cheeks and ruffled his hair.

            “Hey!” he laughed, making sure to keep the gift hidden from the zealous stars that continued to tickle him, unrelenting.  “I-Innogen!  Make them s-stop!”

            “Now, now!” Innogen chuckled, “Let him be!  He came up here to say something, no doubt!”  The stars stopped in their paths, twinkled brightly, and flew straight into their mother’s bosom.

            Invennero took in a deep breath, his smile tickling the corners of his mouth, “I made you something!  It’ll help keep you warm when you go to cold places, and dry when it rains.”

            “Ohh, I wonder what it is?” she clapped her hands together as she rested her hands on her knees, “An ingenious contraption, most likely.”

            Invennero shook his head, “No, close your eyes.”

            “But I’m blind.”

            “Just do it!”

            She laughed “I know.”

            He untied the ribbon, whipping out any wrinkles the cloak may have obtained.  This caused Innogen to raise her eyebrows, _a tarp, maybe?_   Invennero unbuttoned the fasteners and undid the belt at the cloak’s bottom quickly, and soon draped it over his sister’s shoulders.  Innogen’s eyes opened wide- this wasn’t a hard piece of metal, but soft, warm cloth!  As Invennero fastened the top buttons, Innogen rubbed a section of the cloth between her fingers, taking note of the thread count and durability of the garment.

            “There!” Invennero stepped back, viewing the final product of his hard work.  He ran around her and viewed the back and sides, nodding his head in approval.

            “Well?  How does it look?”  Innogen asked, spreading out her arms for wingspan and twirling to hear the cloth flutter.  It felt so comfortable!  Of course, she never really got cold, and if she ever got wet she could dry herself almost immediately with her flames, but it was the thought that counted, and she could never turn away a gift from her brother.

            “You look beautiful.  Twirl again!” he exclaimed, to which she could only consent and spin, pirouetting continuously so as to keep him from asking once more.  He laughed again, and glanced to the sky.

            “Ah!  Inno!  It’s almost time to catch stars!”  He exclaimed, pushing his sister to the nearest window.  The skies were a deep blue, ornamented with twinkling Stars and crowned with the master of the night- the Moon.

            Innogen raised her hand out of the window, the golden light it was emanating turning to a soft, silvery glow.  “It appears so,” she replied, stepping onto the sill, “I’ll be back very soon.  Stay safe.”

            “I will!” Invennero grinned, and after some thought, “May I?”

            “Of course.” his sister smiled, spreading her arms out for the fall.

            “Yes!  One… Two… Three!” he pushed her out the window, looking over the edge to watch her go.

            The wind rushed around her as she kept her form, goggles on, cloak flapping, shine brightening.  Heaven knows why she put on goggles- perhaps to prevent any further damage to her eyes?  Yes, that must be so.  Anyhow, with her light growing solid and liquid like, she took to the sky, arms open to catch the wind in her solid light.

            Invennero watched his sister’s light trail off into distance, following the star speeding across the night sky.  A little star joined him in seeing her off, shining calmly when the little boy turned to it.

            He sighed, a peaceful smile on his lips, eyes sleepy, “That cloak looks good on her, huh?  I’ll make some more later… would you want a cloak, too?”

            The star buzzed with delight.

 

~

 

            It ate at the little sapling, sucking away its life energy as it waited.  Finding that it had nothing better to do than to wait for its desired target, it found it suitable to dine off of the energy the surroundings gave.  Nihilism was nil, so one would think it would be completely nourished with nothing.  Yet the essence’s diet consisted of things _turning_ to nothingness- a parasitical lifestyle.

            It looked up to the sky, and grimaced at the Stars and their flashy lights and pretty songs.  Oh, how he longed to swallow them whole and drown out their lights with searing annihilation.  Their screams are what it would relish most.  And oh, what was this?  He seemed to have upset a little shadow.  Ahh, there he was now, stalking the forest to find the intruder.

            In all honesty Nihil was just curious.  This little shadow just happened to have consumed a great majority of the Stars it so hated, and took the people of those Constellations for his own.  He ate them and turned them into the shades he was made of, yet he still had a weakness about him.

            Nihil could smell the humanity coming from him, and it was disgusting.  It was small in comparison to regular beings, but how could such a ruthless creature have retained any humanity at all?  He was Fear, wasn’t he?

            Apparently not.

            Nihil dismissed him- the little shadow was just a meager target for it, anyhow.  No, Nihil so desired to consume the pretty starchild maiden- she had more substance to her in terms of “muchness”, whereas the shadowman was deficient in such things.  He was already consumed by Fearlings- not a very delectable essence to eat.

            But the young maiden!  Ah, now she was filled with such sweet things- light, kindness, warmth… Nihil could remember its first feasting on her essence- absolutely luscious!  How it enjoyed seeing her writhe in pain from its presence.  And now, she was just like the Stars, if not more so.  It was tantalizingly poignant!  How Nihil so desired to snuff out her light and silence her for eternity.

            A soft breeze blew through the trees.  She was here- catching fallen stars, no doubt!  Searching the skies, it found her- luminous and dazzling- dashing this way and that to seize pinpricks of light.

            Nihil chuckled.  “I wonder if I was missed.”

 

~

 

            He was deathly silent as he travelled through the shadows.  Unable to be touched, sensed, or the least bit detected, Pitch Black bided his time listening for the slightest sound that didn’t belong and watched on.  It was only a matter of time until he ran into the stench again.  He vainly attempted to shield his nose from the onslaught of the essence’s putrid fragrance, yet the stink only grew heavier.

            He was _very_ near.

            Sure enough, the shushed, hollow sounds of raging fires and screams reached his ears as the spirit took on a form- an ambiguous mass of crimson and black mist.  Pitch was uncertain whether it was its true form or not and proceeded to remain hidden- this adversary was unknown to him.  Best to observe its movements to learn of its strengths and weakness, he decided.

            Without warning a bright light shone from the sky and Pitch retreated deeper into the shadows.  What is that?  Another potential adversary?  He shielded his eyes from the brilliant rays, his shades scurrying away for fear of becoming one with the rays.

            _The star-maiden!  The star-maiden!  She burns us!_ Hissed his shadows.

            “What are you rambling about?!” Pitch shouted as his shades retreated, exposed to the malicious essence not too far from him.

            _The light is angry at us!  We didn’t keep our promise!!  She is angry!_

“Nonsense!  Your master commands you to return!”  The Nightmare King barked as the Nihilism approached, ground dissolving and appearing once more as it trailed closer.  The light in the sky faltered before landing on the ground as the sounds of the destructive spirit grew ever louder.

            _Leave.  This does not involve a foolish little shadow such as yourself._

“I do not take orders from others.  I give the orders- I am Fear.”

            _Is that so?  I have never known Fear.  Fear doesn’t exist._

“Troglodyte,” the King sneered, “Fear is standing before you.”

            _What is “you”?  And, more importantly, what are you, little shade?_

Pitch’s patience was wearing thin, “I AM FEAR!” he roared.

            _You say such things, but are you really saying anything?  You appear to be so, but are you?  Are you even conscious, or alive?  Are you even a being?  Is there such thing as your existence, or existence itself?  Poor little shadow in a web of doubt!_

Pitch clutched at his ears, “Silence!  I’m warning you!”

            _What is silence?_ It cackled in his mind, _I have never known silence!  What are you to do?  Will you ever do, or never do?  You can’t possibly “ **do** ” anything, now can you?   For nothing exists!  Therefore exists nothing!  Nothing is nothing!  I am Nihil!  I am Annihilation!  I am Oblivion!  I am Nothing, and Nothing is me! _

The voice cackled and yelled and ate and clawed at the Nightmare King, “Stop” was all he could manage to say, yet he was drowned out by the Nihilism’s taunting.  

            _Stop?  I have never known stop!!  Or how to stop, mind you!  But I don’t have a mind, and you’re not you!  You are nothing as I am nothing.  Living and dying uselessly- that’s what you do!  Oh, the pretty Star is here!  A very troublesome nothing!  Goodbye, little shadow!  It appears my time has expired!_

Screams of anger, madness, and agony erupted through the forest and seemed to bombard the Nightmare King.  They resonated in his mind as a great light enveloped him and set his skin ablaze.  

            _“Hot… much too hot.  It burns.”_ Pitch thought as he was blinded, covering his face with his arms.  The screams were fading, being washed away and replaced by soft, lulling whispers.

            _Sorry if our light is too much for you- mama only wanted to make sure the Nothingness went away._

_Yes, she wants to keep you safe._

_Sorry for scaring away your shadows- we didn’t mean to._

_“What?”_

_Oh!  He has a little light in his heart!  Look how small it is!  Are you feeling alright, mister?_

“What are you going on about?” the King moaned, rubbing his eyes as he sat up.

            “Just checking to see if you’re alright.”  A kind voice sounded in front of him.

            He cracked open an eye, but closed it shut once more, “Agh,” he grunted, holding up his hand, “Put that light out!”

            The light dimmed significantly, showing a young lady that looked frighteningly familiar clutching at her chest.  Light spilled out from between her fingers as she made sure it wasn’t too bright.  Once the danger of blindness was remedied, she removed her hands to show a glowing section of her chest, light radiating warmly through her clothes.

            “Sorry,” she began, “I forgot that you are sensitive to light.  Forgive me.”

            “That’s… quite alright.” he breathed slowly, getting used to strange sight of her.  

            “How are you feeling?” she asked, grey eyes flashing in curiosity.

            “Fine…  Excuse me, but who are you, and what was that… spirit, that I just encountered?”  The Nightmare King asked, taking on a rather adolescent tone.

            “You don’t… remember?”  the maiden tilted her head in confusion, a worried look in her eyes.

            “Remember what?” the Nightmare King asked, perplexed beyond belief.

            She shook her head, “Nothing…  I’m Innogen.” she offered her hand to him.  The Nightmare King didn’t dare to take it for fear of burning himself.  Yet what if she was angered from being so rudely slighted?  Clearly, the girl was more powerful than she appeared.  Reluctantly he took her hand, noting how gentle she held his- she meant no harm.

            “Pitch Black… now, what was that…”

            “Essence?”

            “Yes.  Essence.”

            “I’m sure you already know the answer- Nihilism- the product of eons upon eons of human depravity and destruction.  It is a parasite that strives to turn everything into nothing, and can do so to you irreversibly if you give it the chance.” she dispatched grimly.

            “Of course.  And how do you know this?” Pitch asked incredulously, picking himself up from the ground.  

            Innogen got up as well, a bit of her shine returning, “Because it tried to the same to me long ago.  It still wants to eradicate me, so it follows until I dispel it.”

            “Well, it appears that you didn’t do such a great job the last time,” Pitch smirked, noting that his acidic comment had no effect on the girl.  She merely shook her head in agreement and began to walk with him.

            “How do you feel?” she inquired.

            “I’m fine, now leave me be.” He replied gruffly.

            “Are you sure?” she stopped in her tracks.

            “Positive.  Now I must be going, it has been a pleasure, thank you, good night.”  he listed over his shoulder, heading towards the nearest shadows.  To be completely honest the girl’s presence made the Nightmare King feel uneasy.  It was as if she was a ghost to come and haunt him, and those grey eyes didn’t help him feel any better.  They made him feel pity and sadness- things he promised he would never feel.  He frowned, _“A sniveling girl will not move me.  She never will, no matter how much light she uses.  I can fend for myself- how dare she assist me in disbanding that meager specter.  I am Fear, not Helplessness”_

            _You told her that you were Pitch Black, not Fear,_ a voice chuckled from above.  He shot his head up to find the Stars twinkling gaily.

            _“Oh, shut up.”_ And with that the King returned to the shadows.

 

            Innogen stood in her place for awhile, mind off in wondering as to what she should do now- her beloved nephew remembered _nothing._ What was else could she do?

            _Believe… Hope for the best… keep the flame alight._ A voice suggested, coming to be the little blue star that travelled for forty-three years long ago.  He floated calmly next to Innogen, staying close to her shoulder.

Innogen laughed, “You’re absolutely right, James.”

            _It is the end of the beginning, and the beginning of the rest, wouldn’t you suppose?_

“Mm, yes, I suppose so.”

 

~End of Beginning~

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so very much for reading~


	10. Author's Note

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, Emily- for being there since the beginning.

Author’s Note

 

I must say that this was my longest, most tedious piece of work that I’ve written.  Of course there are many, _many,_ flaws and subjects I need to elaborate on (Of that I’m sure) but all in all I suppose I did a good job.

 

Now to explain as to _why_ I wrote this…

 

After I had watched the film, I felt sorry for Pitch.  Yes, he did kill Sandy, and yes, he did try to cover the world in fear, but I believe he deserved better.  I believe he deserved a Miyazaki ending.  Some of you know who Miyazaki is and his many films (that are absolutely incredible, might I add), but for those of you who don’t, here’s a rundown:

 

As usually seen in Hayao Miyazaki’s films, the antagonist is usually forgiven, or let off easily and changes for the better (See Princess Mononoke (Lady Eboshi), or Spirited Away (Yubaba)).  With an ending like this, I believe the film would be complete and therefore have no need for a sequel.  But it didn’t.  It ended bitterly for the antagonist, who will most likely seek revenge (a vicious circle).  In my opinion, Pitch was never the Guardians’ enemy- unbelief was.  If no one believed in any of them, they’d be nonexistent.  Thus I created a character who was the epitome of forgetfulness and nothingness- Nihil.

 

I’d like to think of Nihil as an essence more than a being- it has no emotions save for insanity and destruction.  It is a sickness that takes hold of people’s hearts, when the people cease to stop feeling and living and live uselessly.  That’s what I wanted for him to convey- it is useless, yet it is potent.  It is the true enemy, and will always be the true enemy.

 

Now, onto the protagonists.  Since this was intended to be a story for Pitch Black I thought everything through- who his family was, where he obtained his influences from- his life before the accident.  But then I figured, “There will be plenty of tales of that, and all much more eloquent than what I’m writing”, so I thought a little harder.  Who was his family?  Who did he love the most of all?  What else is missing?

Innocence.  With reality and corruption swarming around the realm, why wasn’t there a character for Innocence?  The world responded “Innocence is a kind of insanity” (Graham Greene), “All things truly wicked start from innocence.” (Hemingway).  Why, “Innocence is thought charming because it offers delightful possibilities for exploitation” (Cooley).  This had to be wrong- too often is innocence mistaken for ignorance.  It is what opened worlds for us when we were children- nothing was impossible.  With this in mind, I created a character who, although mature, still retained plenty of her innocence.  I made her blind to the world, for I believe that innocence is blind to harsh reality.  Yet reality was there- it threatened to kill her brother and herself, threatened to destroy her childhood with sickness and seriousness and evil.  Yes they died young, but so reality could never take them.  They are fireflies.  Fireflies who were jealously guarded from the outside (literally, in Innogen’s case) which only furthered their deaths.  Naturally, fireflies have a short lifespan, yet when captured and held in a jar they die much too quickly.  The same could be said for a flame.  

 

As you can see, I thought this through a little too much for my own health.

 

The characters were based off of many influences- Miyazaki’s characters (if you noticed the analogies made to Nausicaä: Of the Valley of Wind in chapter three, then I love you) and two songs that few hardly know of.  One being my very user name (Kagaribito: Repairers of the Deceptive World), and another by the name of Tabibito (Traveller).  Both tell of a long journey across their worlds, and in the end they perish- succeeding in their quests, we’ll never know.  The Traveller searches “for the light of truth”, while the Kagaribito (A play on words- the Bonfire Keeper, and/or The Tailor, perhaps both) has “a duty with no end in sight.  She has ceased to ask why, but merely keeps working diligently.”

Eventually, going through darkness and remembering the life the once had- “her irreplaceable once-and-only life” (Kagaribito), “The boyhood days he spent running in the hills, the stories he heard every night by the fireside… that brilliant time is something lost to the past.  He carries with him sadness as he continues his journey which yet knows no end” (Tabibito)- they surely die, yet with remembering themselves have completed their life’s journey, and pass on in peace.  Perhaps I made this story to tell of  these two’s pasts, before they were swept up into the tides of fate.  

 

I loved all of these characters as if they were my own family.  And their story is not yet over.  I will add more later, and will most likely revisit and revise this story in due time.

Thank you for reading and learning the tale of this time long since passed- I hope you have taken these characters to heart as much as I have.


End file.
